


Yours, Mine.

by SS98



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Adorable Louis, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Butt Plugs, Cute Louis, Dark Harry, Dark Marcel, Depression, Dom Edward, Dom Harry, Dom Marcel, Double Penetration, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced, I'm gonna try, Innocent Louis, Louis in Glasses, Louis in Lace, Louis in Panties, Louis in Sweaters, M/M, Mention of Abusive Past, Multi, Nerd Louis, Nerd Marcel, Nervous Louis, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Possessive Marcel, Possible abusive home, Protective Edward, Protective Harry, Protective Marcel, Rimming, Sad Louis, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Shy Louis, Smoking, Snogging, Star Wars - Freeform, Student Harry, Student Louis, Student Marcel, Sub Louis, Substance Abuse, Sugardaddy Edward, Top Edward, Top Harry, Top Marcel, Triggers, Triple Penetration, dark edward, domestic abuse, dub/con, possessive Edward, pray for Louis' ass, self hatred, sugarbaby louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 129,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5782624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS98/pseuds/SS98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>We're a crooked love in a straight line down. Makes you wanna run and hide.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Louis is just his plain out self and this seems to catch the eye of the Styles triplets. They each try to be the one he says yes to.</p><p>
  <i>Copyright © 2016 SS98/ Yours, Mine</i>
</p><p>
  <i>All Rights Reserved</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_[A/N: Just a little....thing with Styles triplets fooling around (not that kind of fooling around) with poor 'lil Louis. Lou comes from an abusive home. This is a bit out of my writing style so you'll probably notice a bit of faltering o.O Enjoy as best you can and pretty please let me know what you think of it :) - S xx]_ **

_If you're lost just look for me. You'll find me in the region of the summer stars._

Liam and Niall have never once been this annoying and Louis just doesn't know what to _do_ about it. He wants to say yes and get the whole double-date prospect over with but he's got not a clue as to who his best mates might set him up with. 

Eventually he cave. "I will pay you to leave me alone right now."

"You don't have any money." Niall points out to him before Liam can, winking at Louis' scowl as he yanks his navy blue locker door open. 

"I have plenty of frozen pizzas at home." Louis challenges, using his father's employment at a fast-growing pizza brand's advertising headquarters to get his friend to back down. "You love frozen pizza."

"He's right." Niall hisses as if he's been burnt, holding onto Liam's limp wrist on his shoulder. "A dozen mini pepperoni's and I'll drop it."

"Half a dozen and two Mountain Dew's." Louis is nothing if not aces at bargaining non-perishable food items.

"Deal." 

They shake on it and Liam's disapproval is evident in his tight smile, not pleased that the boy he's known for twelve years is lonely.

"You make it sound like I'm not _happy_ , Li." Louis explains, probably for the thousandth time as they walk together down the halls towards the cafeteria. "Contrary to social norms and popular beliefs all in which an individual cannot be content by their lonesome, _I am just fine._ "

Liam is getting ready to pinch some part of Louis for the sass of his best friend but instead chuckles and smothers the urge, squeezing the other boy around his shoulders. Niall bursts through the double doors as dramatically as he does every day and locates a table towards the centre of the cafeteria awaiting their occupation.

"I'll stand in line." Louis volunteers, dropping his bag and books in Liam's hands. 

"We'll meet you there." 

He pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, lightly scratching the cold tip of it before taking up a spot in the queue for food. It's the start of the buffet style set-up, which meant Liam's fruit salad coming before Niall's slice of chocolate cake and Louis' chicken burger.

"Excuse me?" Someone speaks so close to his ear that Louis feels the shivers resulting from their warm minty breath cascading under his goosebumps. 

Louis turns his head to put a face to this dripping honey voice. "Yes?"

It isn't his strong suit to know more than Liam and Niall in this massive school but this face Louis is particularly certain he hasn't seen before. He'd _remember_ a face like this. 

Bright green eyes as fluorescent as the lights that keep them awake during class happen to be the first things he notices. They're so brilliant that it steals the show from his own blue as the Mediterranean eyes that he got directly from his great grandmother. This young stranger had cocoa brown hair gelled back and it didn't work for most, shouldn't work for him, but Louis will be damned if he didn't see a more attractive face. 

"Can you keep my spot?" This unfairly handsome individual is still speaking and as he does, here pops two dimples on either side of his red pigmented lips. _Holy shit._

"Uh- sure." What else is he supposed to say? He's willing to live through some drama for this particular person.

"Thanks." The unknown peer with unmerciful emerald jewels in place of his eyes flashes Louis a dazzling, thousand watt smile that almost earns him a gasp. "I'm Marcel."

"Huh?" Louis didn't mean to sound so rude but he was staring at Beautiful Person's lips as they moved. They were so plump.

"Marcel." Beautiful Person is in a hurry by the way he's constantly glancing to his left where the general school population circulated, having moved his stack of textbooks from hand to hand thrice now. "My name."

"Oh." Louis shouldn't be inconsiderate and keep Beautiful Person from attending to whatever he may need to. "I'm Louis."

"Thanks for this, Louis." If one told Louis that two seconds after he was told this in parting he'd want to dig a hole and live in it, he'd definitely not believe you.

However it is true. Marcel probably didn't _mean_ to kiss Louis' temple from his inconvenient towering height because _maybe_ it's a thing that happens regularly in the cloud of Heaven where he came from. Rather than shouting goodbye in English or French, they kiss each other on the temple and vanish. 

Nonetheless, Louis wants to dig a hole and live in it.

"What did I just witness?" Niall's stupefied expression is marching up to Louis after abandoning Liam at the table to babysit their homework.

"Uh-" Louis repeats his immaculate pronunciation, face burning bright pink. "I don't.....know."

Niall doesn't believe him. Niall never believes him. Whether he actually did hose the garden for his mom so he couldn't go his party or not, Niall didn't believe a damn thing that came out of his mouth.

"I don't believe you." Says the blonder of the two pals, taking up residence next to Louis as the queue extends in a snake's form.

"Yeah, neither do I." Louis murmurs to himself, chewing his lip in a hopeless effort to pull the skin down and taste the wetness left on his temple by Marcel's lips.

"He looked familiar." Niall is pondering out loud again. Unlike Louis, Niall can know every single face in this school and still ace Trigonometry. 

It takes up until they've gotten Niall's cake with a plastic fork and for Louis to decide whether tomatoes are worth it on his burger, for Niall to figure it out. 

"I got it!" He exclaims, holding his finger up while Louis grabs a strawberry milk carton. 

Louis keeps quiet and waits for Niall to go on but that doesn't happen even with said boy still stuck to his side, so he glances up quizzically. Niall's verbal obstacle is rendered by someone returning to the spot behind them, making him studious in creating a pattern between the strokes at the outline of his paper plate.

Looking over his shoulder for a peek at Beautiful Person again, Louis' hopes are pummelled with titan proportions when the face present isn't exactly the same but is also exactly the same. How odd.

Marcel had these green-green eyes that probably belonged in the night sky amongst the stars - Louis figured out why he's lonely _and happy_ during this thought - yet this individual had a slightly dull approach. He had the same chocolate locks but these fell to his shoulders and bit more, curling around his face. 

"Um- Hi?" Louis doesn't know why he's talking. 

Niall also isn't clear on the concept because he grips his best friend's arm with such sudden strength that his victim hisses under his breath.

"Hello." Ominous slivers of green darted to his face, clouded by black all around in the iris. 

Louis figures if they look so much alike, Marcel and this second individual must know one another a decent amount. He decides to let it slide for more than the fact that this person is packing heat when it came to muscle. Broad arms and probably a toned abs-lined abdomen beneath the Rolling Stones T-shirt he wore.

Niall is pulling him towards the point to pay and beyond, not releasing Louis' sleeve until they're safely at the table. "Louis is crazy."

"I believe you." Liam believes everything and that's why he's part of their trio. 

Louis rolls his eyes and on that roll, catches a glimpse of the scary beautiful person looking their way. Those eyes were on him for sure, they had to be. His skin lit up and glowed at the same time as his lip being surrendered to the bite of his teeth.  
He almost feels a little confidence swell in his chest but, for safety's sake, looks behind him and sees a group of the school's most attractive girls hanging out. Figures.

"Let's go to the carousel after school." Niall proposes after a full five seconds of silence from all three of them.

"I'm in." Louis nods. He loves any excuse not to go home as soon as he can and he's pretty sure Niall brings things like this up because of that.

His step mother isn't the nicest soul on Earth. She's far from it actually. There he was, a naïve thirteen year-old thinking that there was just a stepmother stereotype hovering over the kind of women, but the first time she scratched him robbed him of that illusion.

Then came the wooden spoon on any body part of his that would bruise. The light pinches became jabs with her fake nails that left him bleeding, once his wrist was swollen from an impact with the handle of a frying pan and Niall had to do all his writing.

She got drunk at any opportunity and took out her aging ugliness on Louis for no reason. He couldn't tell his father because he remembers what pain and misery his dad went through when he was alone. Louis could not make himself a monster and take that away from him.

"I'll drive." Liam has to drive, even if he chose not to go.

Louis pulls the top bun of his burger off and sets it aside, dragging off most of the annoying ketchup from the fillet itself and leaving it on his plate. Maybe he was born with the pudge on his tummy but in recent months he's striving to reduce it, remove it completely maybe. 

He just ends up eating the fillet and two fries from his own plate, with a lucky red grape from Liam's fruit salad. 

"Did you carry money, Li?" Niall asks, handing over his usual offering of half a slice of cake to Louis.

Louis pushes the dessert towards Liam who doesn't think twice to devour it. "I did. Dad gave me his card today."

"We can't use his card at the carousel, Li." 

"We can buy the tickets." Louis intervenes, having remembers an article about this pop-up fair in the paper last week. "They've been using those swiper devices recently."

He looks up after mentioning this and the queue by the food court is empty now, but to the left of it stood the formidable individual from earlier. Louis saw him looking in their direction again but upon inspection, he discovered that the girls weren't behind him any longer. This puzzled him. He didn't want to look into it very much but how rude would he be if he didn't at least smile? 

Naturally, he smiles _and_ waves. Maybe he is crazy like Niall says. 

"What are you doing?" Liam stops his hand mid-wave. He brings it down between them and held onto it because Louis is unpredictable.

"Waving. It's polite, Liam." Louis snatches his own back and lays that arm over his lap, not too proud of the blue-purple bruise above his elbow. 

"It's not if the person you're waving at is a stranger." It's easy to deduce from a distance away that Liam is reprimanding Louis and such a thing happens to exploit a frown from the stranger watching them.

"He's still looking." Niall observes, chewing on the remainder of Louis' fries without permission. 

"Jesus." Liam mutters, taking on the John Cena role of their tiny party of friends.

"Oh please, Liam." Louis pats his mate's shoulder. "Everyone can attest to the fact that you over react."

"Marcel and Harry Styles." Niall says without further introduction, seemingly talking to himself but the other bickering two hears him loud and clear. 

"Styles?" Louis' eyes threaten to bulge all the way out of his sockets. "The _Styles_? I don't believe you."

They're not a very trustworthy or trusting bunch of pals.

"Yup." Niall is bored by the disappearance of all the fries and gets his arm swatted when he goes for the strawberry milk. "The new family that moved here."

"But-" Liam is squinting at his bowl. "-they're supposed to own like...the Northern hemisphere."

"Yeah that too." Niall snaps his fingers when he catches Louis staring over his shoulder at Mr. No Longer Anonymous. "I forbid you to look at either of them."

"I second it." Liam chimes in, the jerk.

Louis glares at them both but he's easily defeated after an exhausting day and narrowly avoiding getting a broken arm. "Fine."

  
* * * * *  


Niall is a major fan of carousels and has bribed the conductor in charge of controlling the spinning to keep them on for six turns rather than four like everyone else. 

"I'm going to die a virgin." He professes once they're safely in the air, falling back against the seat.

Liam isn't present so Niall feels free to talk about things like this in front of Louis. They're all the best of friends but Liam and Louis knew one another the longest and Niall has long since accepted that they've bonded in an unparalleled circumstance.

"You're in high school. You're supposed to be a virgin." Louis is looking out at the people get tinier and tinier, eventually become mere dots.

"True but Liam's so clingy that I see us together forever." Niall sighs. "Are you listening?"

"You're twice as clingy, Ni. With everything from me to Liam to the candy floss you made Liam get you now. I'm always listening."

Niall's eyes turn into fond little hearts when he cooes but that's all he'll take from it because Louis didn't listen to care, he listened because his senses have always been so attuned to pick up the slightest change. He's kept himself safe from black eyes and teeth marks because of it.

  
* * * * *  


Louis has Chemistry with Marcel.

He didn't have a clue about how that would play out, especially because they're in pairs for Chemistry and he gets the wonderful opportunity of sharing a desk with the other. Louis sits first so he can't exactly move away when Marcel slides into the stool next to him, except bow his head and pick at the corners of his Star Wars notebook.

"Star Wars?" He hears on his right and perks up, ready to converse about his favour topic.

"Yeah." Louis smiles and displays the full frontal image of Darth Vader. He turns into a kid for Star Wars and will befriend anyone who likes it even a smidgen as much as he does. "Are you a fan?"

Marcel is chuckling and he's so beautiful when he does it, both dimples becoming visible and the plump softness of his lips thinning out in his smile. The sunlight intruding through the unsealed windows reflect off the dark colour of his eyes, leaving a little sparkling star in the corner of them both. 

In a fully buttoned white dress shirt and black jeans that are oddly tight on him, emphasising the strength his thighs, Marcel is likened to a porn star librarian in Louis' head. Thick, wide-frame glasses and all. "I call my brother Obi-Wan so I'd say so, yeah."

"Really?" Louis straightens his pathetic hunched posture and angles himself correctly in his seat. In a fleeting thought he pictures Harry from yesterday in Jedi robes, broadening his smile with the image. "What does he call you?"

"Marcel." Is his disappointing reply, both participants of the conversation realising that.

Louis pouts. "That was anti-climactic."

"I haven't gotten either one to watch all the movies with me." Marcel shrugs, his modest wristwatch making Louis' heart clench. 

_Wait, either?_ "How many brothers do you have?" He blurts out rudely, chastising himself mentally for it.

"Two." His partner doesn't seem to mind the question and replies with a humble twitch of his lips. "One goes to here and the other doesn't."

The ambiguity of that statement has Louis fighting to tame his tongue and keep any further enquiries internalised. He doesn't want to ruin this budding friendship with a fellow fan of the greatest sci-fi franchise ever created.

"Well um- maybe you can get them to see the new episode with you." Louis smiles as well, keeping his legs propped up because they never touch the ground on these stools.

"They'd never." Marcel shakes his head, still disarming Louis' defences with his stupid dimples. "Have you seen it yet?"

"Nope." Louis experiences that cruel deflation of his spirit when he thinks about it. "My friends refuse to go with me."

"You don't want to go alone?" Marcel has this _look_ on his face like he's solving the Rubik's cube with utter focus and devotion, little creases on his brow forming but they're all directed at Louis. 

"I'll need transport." He confesses the only burden he'll ever have up until he can get a car for himself. 

Marcel makes a slight 'hmph' sound but doesn't elaborate on his train of thought, nor does he say more at all. Louis turns back towards the front of the classroom and plays with the cap of his pen for some time, despising the trait in him that crippled his capability to socialise better.

The teacher walks in and bores eighty percent of the class with organic chemistry, the study of isomers and naming everything from Alkanes to Esters. It's over and Louis has drawn himself a neat table diarises the entire lesson so studying becomes a breeze when he actually does. 

He's actually forgotten that Marcel was right beside him occasionally bumping elbows with him because of a clash in left and right handwriting. Each time he apologised and stole a second or two to just take in the fact that Marcel smiles at him so much.

After the bell rings and Louis hasn't gotten a stitch of conversation out of Marcel beyond their first one, he resigns all chance of doing so and packs up his things.

"I could take you to the movies." Is the sentence that stops Louis from properly zipping his pencil case shut, and will be the one he recites to his grandchildren years from now.

"What?" His lame and impolite response would easily make Liam scowl, or even worse decline from sharing grapes with him anymore. "Sorry, I just- what?"

That's what he's going with then.

Marcel finds his sputtering reply followed by contemplation and a repeated dose of confusion, undeniably amusing in a fond kind of way. He stands up to be maybe just an inch less than a foot taller than Louis and the latter doesn't know how to feel about that.

"You want to watch the new episode and need a ride. I have a ride." Marcel rephrases and it's not a date invitation but Louis is definitely still flattered.

"Really?" He finds himself stepping around the stools to ask, quiet and low in reassurance. 

"Sure." Marcel grins down at him, all perfect white teeth with a pair of frighteningly sharp canines. "I don't know your name however."

"My name?" _Shit_ , he's never forgotten his name before. "L-Louis."

"Are you sure?" Marcel teases and he manages to make it less offensive, more adorable. 

Louis will wait for them to be in the type of friendship that allows for them to share food, to glare as he wants to now. "Pretty sure. Louis Tomlinson."

"Then, Louis Tomlinson, is tomorrow at seven okay?" Marcel is such a charming soul hidden behind glasses from the sixties and long-sleeves. 

"I don't know your surname." Louis is chewing his lip again, which is better than his adolescent nervous tendency of chewing his pencils. 

"Styles." The other replies, moving a step to the side so they may walk out together. 

"You have a deal for seven tomorrow, Marcel Styles." 

They separate to head off towards their respective course classes when Louis turns after left right and slams into a hard chest. He's pretty sure he's forgotten the layout of the school and what he collided with has to be a brick wall but alas, upon inspection he discovers that he did walk into a person.

It's a _familiar_ human brick wall. A former Mr. Anonymous.

"Oh. Sorry." Louis saves himself from the blush colouring his cheeks becoming known. "Excuse me."

He's about to step around the stagnant individual who is undoubtedly staring at him with those transfixed black eyes, trimmed with a green ribbon. "You're Louis Tomlinson."

Guess that plan is down the drain along with Louis' will to just run away. He stays and looks up into those marbles of intrigue, convinced that they're a discoloured kind of molten rock that was poured into the thinnest crystal bubbles so that they always look this mysterious. 

"I guess I-I am." Louis isn't too proud of the way he can't seem to keep his sentences straight today. "Hi."

Harry's stone face is carved from marble and it must be as smooth at the stubble and adorably dented at the dimples as it appears. "Hello."

The tardy bell rings and Louis _must_ leave despite his desire to remain. "I have to go."

Harry doesn't keep him, just steps to the side towards the lockers and let's Louis pass him like they didn't just have the most awkward conversation possible.

In his sprint to get out of this school block and find his Math class in the next one, Louis sees Niall heading in the opposite direction for English. They wave at each other in passing with a variation of poorly hand signals dictating that they will talk at lunch.

He has Math with Liam which is always his breather subject save for his teacher is the most intimidating human being after Mr. Former Anonymous. No chewing gum and no talking about anything besides Math. One would think it's easy to get away with the second rule but their teacher has the ears of a bat, sort of like Louis.

"Hey, Li. Guess what just happened?" Louis is not one to keep secrets from Liam, maybe Niall but not Liam. 

They have a few minutes before the teacher walks in so Liam takes the bait. "What would that be, Lou?"

"I bumped into someone." 

"Was it Obama?" His friend asks with a dead serious face that frightens Louis sometimes because he isn't entirely sure whether Liam is joking or not.

"No. One of the Styles brothers. I spoke to both actually but this is the-"

"Wait!" Liam actually raises his voice by an octave or three or cut Louis off. "What did you say?"

"I spoke to the Styles brothers." Louis says again, slowly for the benefit of his hearing impaired best friend.

"Why?" Liam mimics his tone, clearly aggravated but controlling himself.

Louis has been waiting for the lee-way that would allow him time to narrate this classical story. "Marcel and I spoke about _Star Wars_ because he saw my notebook. He and I both haven't seen the new movie so he offered to take me."

Liam spits out the water he'd cautiously sipped, leading to Louis' exasperated sigh and efforts towards donating his entire pack of Kleenex tissues. _"What?"_

"I don't know if you're happy or mad right now." Louis says to him honestly.

"I'm....I'm confused." Liam seems to be short-circuiting and Louis likens him to C-3PO.

"About what?"

"You spoke to the Styles brothers?" Liam keeps it noted to ask about the brother that Louis didn't mention elaborately.

"Yes."

He takes a breath and wipes a bit more of the dampness on his jeans, frowning distastefully at the white flecks left behind by the tissue. "And you're going on a date with Marcel?"

"It's not a date." _Holy shit_. Did he just agree to a date with a Styles?

"Fine. And the other one?"

Louis wishes that he was skimming over details when he recites this story but it actually is this short and sweet. "We bumped into each other and said hello then I left."

Liam slides his water bottle over to Louis so it is a safe distance away. "Niall and I would have went to the new movie with you."

"No, you would not have." Louis offers him a stick of gum for trying to lie.

"You're right. Sorry." Liam accepts and pops it in his mouth immediately. "So when is this date?"

"It's not a date."

"Do I look like I care?" Liam really doesn't.

"It's tomorrow at seven."

Liam gives a look comprising of a raised brow and nonplussed smirk, all pointing towards the neon flickering billboard that says: 'It's A Date'. 

Louis can only salvage what sanity he has left to cover his tracks. "Please don't tell Niall."

  
* * * * *  


Friday night at 18h51 Louis is checking in the bathroom one last time, touching up that one single strand that dare to deviate from his medium between careless and artful.

At 18h57 he's at it again, bouncing on the soles of his shoes like a jack rabbit trying not to choke himself everytime he inhales. This is his absolute first outing with a person who isn't Niall or Liam, or Niall and Liam. He's beyond excited and more thrilled about exploring something he has the right to.

The analogue clock from his old home that he no longer remembers dwindles past seven and he's permanently on a high, having kept away from any liquids so he doesn't have to pee in public restrooms. The thrill has him paranoid, planning ahead and flexing his fingers as he paces around his room. 

He discovers what it means when the clock hits 20h14 and he's still on his feet, immaculately dressed for a night he's been doting on for two whole days. That's the longest he's ever had to look forward to something.

It doesn't affect him when he strips back down and hangs everything up, washes out the cheap gel in his hair and dries it with a towel. He gets into bed facing the window, imagining a shiny car coming down his middle class street to save him.

Nothing ever gets properly catalogued in Louis' mind although he registers everything. The awful things he experience go to the back of his brain where it's centralised and left in a cage to fester, to grow. It becomes bigger and heavier each day but even that he refuses to take notice of. There's too much misery for one boy to face and his coping mechanism for the tarnished state of his life is to completely ignore the hurt.

He was subconsciously aware that one day in the unforeseen future all the heaps of discontent are bound to give way. It will erupt and destroy itself, taking him with it.

  
* * * * *  


Niall was standing by his locker on Monday morning, sporting new apparel and tapping his foot sans any sign of Liam. Louis smiles brightly at his best friend and dodges two impacts from shutting doors and rushing students to meet him.

"Hey, Ni." He greets, entering the correct combination into his locker door. "How was your weekend?"

"Save it." Niall waves the question away to be answered later because he does actually have things to say about his weekend. "How was the date on Friday?"

Louis stared at him and when Liam happened by coincidentally, pulled him out of streaming students with a deathly grip. "You _told_ Niall?"

"Hey!" Niall protests.

"He had me convinced." Liam bites his lip and puts on his apologetic puppy dog face. Louis hates him for it. "Sorry, Lou."

It meant little now so Louis sighed and let it go. He rolled up his sleeves because they were too clingy around his wrists for him to not get annoyed. "It's chilled."

"So-" Niall elongates the syllable. "-how was it?"

"It didn't happen." 

"What do you mean?" Liam's expression morphs into a frown. "Did he cancel?"

"He didn't show up." Louis puts his hand on the locker handle and yanks, always having had a problem with lifting then opening the door. 

A piece of paper flutters like it has wings, suspending itself for a moment longer right before his eyes and slowly floating to the ground.

There are no sympathetic sounds or reassurances from either Niall or Liam because they've both been around long enough to know how awkward that made Louis. He was a particular kind of different and nobody truly respected that.

"What's that?" Liam asks, chin on Louis' shoulder to peer over it like Niall on his other side. 

They were all staring down at it without blinking like curators studying something divine. 

"Paper, Li." Niall smartly replies, his tone getting the corner of Louis' mouth to turn up. "Open it

Louis bends down and picks it up carefully, marking the blue lines running across the torn bit of paper as twelve. It's folded over once and crumpled quite a bit like someone held it in their closed fist for a long time. Scenarios of secret agents and the mob comes to mind before Louis is prepared for what he reads what's written on it.

_'He'll see you in Math. I'll see you in English.'_

Niall cries out. "This is _the_ most exciting thing to ever happen to us!"

Liam is more sensible and a little worried. He watches Louis read and reread the note. "Who do you have English with?"

"I-I don't know." Louis replies honestly. "I haven't had it this year yet."

Nodding stiffly, Liam extracts his timetable to cross-check it with Louis'. They won't be in the same class until the end of the day in Geography, the same circumstance doubled with Niall. 

"Do you think it's a scary person?" Louis is peeling the dry skin off his lips with his teeth, wincing when it cuts too deep and starts to bleed. 

Liam really doesn't want to think about it being so. "Definitely not."

"I love you but you suck at lying." Louis turns to Niall. "What do you think?"

"I think this is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to us." Before he can shut down or swatted, Niall continues. "We need some of this."

"Not if whoever this is, is crazy." Liam argues, his defense rendered moot by Louis pointing out one more detail.

"Math!" He exclaims, louder than necessary. "I have Math with Marcel."

Even Niall freezes this time hearing it but quickly mellows out again. He rests an arm around Louis' shoulders and sighs. "So the 'I' in the note could be his brother?"

"Possibly." Louis runs his thumb over the less than eloquent scrawl of the author. "It's so poetic."

Liam rolls his eyes. "It's ominous."

Louis sticks his tongue out in Liam's direction. "Ominous is poetic."

"What are we doing then?" Niall asks them both, cracking his knuckles mindlessly. "What could Harry want?"

"Homework done." 

"Tutelage."

"A guide? He is still new."

"A note for a guide? And why bring his brother in?"

"Oh. Maybe he wants Louis to find him!" 

"Like an extra credit sort of thing?"

"Maybe, or it might be his attempt to come across as a good guy to the faculty. Wasn't he suspended at his last school?"

Louis involuntarily logs in these entries to the back of his mind where it finds a deep and dingy home. They were all suggestions on what Harry wants, why'd he'd put a note into Louis' locker. None of them were the simple answer that Harry just might want _him._

The thing is, he doesn't blame his friends for it either because nobody knows him better than them. They just happened to conclude that because he's so specific and mentally detailed, that he's made of stone. He never held it against them because it's better than having to explain himself.

  
* * * * *  


Math came around in Louis' fourth lesson and he walked into class still carrying the note from this morning in his left hand. He hasn't put it down and his palm has become clammy from such a hold all day. 

Much to his surprise, Marcel is seated next to an empty stool he's meant to take up. The other boy is looking down at his textbook but happens to glance up for whatever nonchalant reason and spots Louis, sheepishly waving. Louis doesn't think he can move.

"Hey." Seeing Marcel didn't even sting which Louis is pretty sure is supposed to happen. 

Louis regards him warily, sliding onto his seat and smiles because he'd be petty to not let Friday go. "Hi."

Marcel seems to release a breath of relief at Louis' smile. "I have to apologise for Friday."

"It's fine." Louis reassures him, bright-eyed and with a little giggle. "Stuff happens."

"No, Louis." The other insists, his closed fist opening then inching nearer to Louis' forearm. "I didn't even call."

"I didn't tell you my number." Louis isn't speaking the complete truth. He wrote his number down and stuck it on Marcel's Calculus textbook. 

Marcel just watches him for a second and something fleetingly passes through the glistening emerald structure of his eyes, hindered by the lenses of his classes. He realises what this is. Louis probably figured out how important they are and doesn't want to be on bad terms with them, for the sake of being known as a friend of the Styles.

"Would you like to go this Friday?" He tries to lure in the truth by planting this trap question. 

"Thank you but no." Louis answers, sniffles and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Marcel's opinion flies out the window. "How about tonight?"

Louis shakes his head in rejection but smiles anyway to soften the blow somewhat, leaving Marcel astounded.

Clearly Louis _doesn't_ want to be associated with the Styles and somehow that managed to be more severe. Marcel coughs into his fist and pushes back the cuff of his crisp navy dress shirt. 

"You shouldn't do that." Louis turns away from the whiteboard, towards him. "It creases terribly."

Marcel knows this. He thinks he does at least because staring into the blue abyss of Louis' eyes seemed to render him speechless. Louis is reaching out and flattening the sleeve again without permission, picking it up off the table. He folds the tough cusp of the sleeve back and then again, his thin and dexterous fingers working deftly to fold the entire thing up to Marcel's elbow.

"Thank you, Lou." Marcel is endeared by this boy in glasses and long sleeves.

Louis is grinning at him. "You called me Lou."

"I did?" Marcel tries to backlog his verbal responses. _He did._ He starts to lightly panic but Louis silences him. 

"You can call me Lou." Louis folds up the other sleeve of Marcel's designer shirt, enjoying the feel of such soft fabric. "There. All better."

It really wasn't.

  
* * * * *  


Louis has been dreading Room 282 in Block 2 all day since he found a folded not in his locker this morning. He tries to convince himself whilst standing outside clutching his books, that he can be brave enough to face whatever - or whoever - is on the other side of the closed door in the seat beside his.

He's safely tucked the note away in his back pocket and takes a deep breath, catching a glimpse of their teacher coming down the hall so he pushes past the door into the room.

Most tables are occupied already, all except one. It's intended for him obviously but more so because of the person taking up residence in the desk next to it. He almost wants to beg someone to swap seats with him because his suspicion was correct and it's Harry waiting patiently staring out the window. 

Harry has his hair down again, effortless little curls at the tips that give life to entire volume. His light blue T-shirt is just as tight around his torso as the black one, emphasising every breath he takes. His fingers are wrapped around a pencil that taps noiselessly against the desk's surface, the appendages appear to be so long that they're a little intimidating.

Louis sucks in his reservations and makes a beeline for his desk, setting his books down as he always does and taking a seat. Maybe he can pretend he never got the note. Yes, that sounded ingenious.

He just about cracks open _Othello_ when he hears a throat clearing right next to him. Here he was, thinking he'd survive his first Literature lesson of the year without a speck of drama. He hates drama with a passion, the irony not being lost on him.

"Yes?" He turns his head towards the face that's antagonising him, a tiny smile teasing his lips as he initiates this conversation.

Harry's lips are pressed into a grim line, dulling all the light that comes from such beauty as he's been granted. He's frowning again. 

Assuming that Harry isn't going to say anything and he certainly won't give in by ranting about the note, Louis turns back to his belongings and crosses his legs as they become restless. A new excitement has been born in his nerves, lacing them with adrenaline and a little smugness.

"I saw you get my note." When these words are spoken, they're whispered and oh so close to his ear that is causes a gang of shivers to creep down the curve of his spine.

"Um-" Louis inches a bit to the side, becoming frazzled when Harry doesn't back off when the teacher enters. "Could you respect my personal space please?"

He hears a chuckle and it makes him roll his eyes. Although not wanting to start any problems by physically pushing Harry away, this is making him antsy. Louis raises his hand and Harry pulls away like the blink of black magic.

"Tomlinson?" The teacher responds from behind his briefcase.

"I'd like to change my seat please." He is careful to observe every twitch from Harry in his peripheral, and Louis is as certain as he is of the date that he heard a snap in Harry's pencil.

Gregory volunteered because he had asthma and quite liked the window so Louis happily woke up and swapped places with him, whose desk was at the front closest to the door. Before completely bypassing Harry though, Louis catches him staring and winks.

He's probably going to die today.

At the end of English after they've gone through two scenes from the play and Louis has suffered an hour of having two holes singed through his shirt from Harry's glare, he is finally freed. It is at this moment that he realises the note was pretty pointless and he gets to tell Niall all about it now at lunch.

A hand caught his elbow on the way out and Louis' life flashes before his eyes.

"I did not appreciate what you did." It's Harry. Of course it is. He's towering over Louis and his eyes are just as black as always, fists tightly clenched with a jaw that's razor sharp. 

"You were invading my personal space." Louis replies, throat going a little dry at the flex of Harry's jaw. "I treasure my personal space."

Harry doesn't let him leave and it's boiled down to just them in an empty classroom with Harry's arm extended above Louis' head to keep the door shut. "I had something to say to you." 

"Had?" Louis crosses his arms and tries to see around the major fog on his lenses.

Silent as he is, Harry reaches up with his jobless hand and pinches the frame of Louis' glasses between his fingers, slowly pulling it off him.

"Give them back!" Louis knows he can't make a grab for them when they're in such a shifty phase and only starts to when Harry has them in both hands. 

Through his blurry and poor eyesight, Louis can only make out the colours Harry's wearing and the strain in his most important yet lacking sense begins to hurt the nerve behind. He feels as if everything he's struggling to see borders on making the eyeball extricate itself from the socket.

"Please!" He doesn't know what to aim for when he tries taking them back, only meeting with a barricade of hard muscle when he grabs onto something. "I can't see, Harry. Please give them back."

Louis feels like crying just because today really isn't his day and he'd like for that to end. He only ever gets sensitive out loud and visibly about his glasses because they felt like the final piece keeping his person together. Sure one nose bud was out and he had faint scratch marks on his nose from the prodding metal piece on his skin, but he hasn't changed his glasses in years because they're part of him. They were what he hid behind during everyday life, like people hid behind blankets during horror movies.

He's about to repeat himself in a more desperate voice but something warm and calloused touches his cheek. Louis stiffens completely and waits, his eyes closing to welcome the security of his unbranded sunglasses being perched on his nose again, tucked in under his hair. 

The misted tint of the glass from earlier is gone and he can see clearly through them now. Harry wiped his glasses? 

_Harry wiped his glasses._

Why would Harry wipe his glasses for him? It shouldn't be such a phenomenal occurrence in Louis' existence that he'll probably never forget along with the time Niall saw fit to thread the hair off his fingers without an ounce of permission.

He meets Harry's eye again and he's profoundly much more shy than he was when this unorthodox conversation came into being. "Thank you?"

Harry's laugh is hoarse tad rough around the edges but Louis thinks it suits him. "You don't sound so sure."

Louis has a flashback to when he introduced himself to Marcel and he'd been told the same thing. The resemblences between them were uncanny and they had to be twins. He doesn't believe they're anything short of identical twins.

 _Wait._ Didn't Marcel mention a third brother that simply didn't go to his school? Could there be a third human being walking around their humble town looking like this? 

"I-I'm sure." Louis rushes to say, securing the strap of his bag on his shoulder once again. He even smiles for effect. "Thank you."

With Harry's hand lowered to his side, Louis finds an escape by shoving the door open and darting out through through the crack of space he creates. He doesn't look back and Harry call out for him.

  
* * * * *  


"Harry Styles wiped my glasses." 

Louis had announced it at their gathering around their new cafeteria table where everyone already had their food. He drops his bag onto the bench and falls onto it himself after Liam's choking fit and Niall's hysterical laughter comes to a close.

 _"Excuse me?"_ Liam rears his head from his bowl of sliced or diced fruit, eyebrows knitted together. 

Niall is the one to respond to his scared question. "Harry Styles wiped his glasses. Keep up, Liam."

"I caught that but what does it _mean_?" He asked again, more pointedly towards the part he wants answered most.

"He wiped my glasses." Louis looks a little puzzled by Liam's reaction when Niall is usually the one to over react. "The um....glass part?"

"Hmph." Liam's scrunched up brow only worsens with his aging seconds. "That is....perculiar."

"I'll say. What happened next?" Niall insisted on this drama of theirs being the best thing to be documented this year. He even left his slice of cake to worry Louis as the boy stripped his burger of the excess ketchup again. 

"I thanked him and I left." Louis shrugs, raising his head from studying the contents of his burger and seeing the cafeteria doors pushed open by a pair of arms with folded sleeves. 

He smiles when Marcel looks his way and although makes no attempt to come over, reciprocates the smile with a small two finger wave. The interaction has Niall spinning around so quickly it had to have given him whiplash, while Liam just chuckles and goes back to his salad. He serves to prove that Niall and Louis don't discriminate against bipolarity.

"You've got _two_ Styles coming your way when the whole school just wants to bump into them." Niall turns back around, picking up his plastic fork as Louis cuts through the fillet of his burger mutation. 

"Don't say it that way, Ni." Louis' bottom lip juts out ahead of the top one, his expression when on the verge of pouting. "I don't want it to _mean_ anything like that."

"I know." Niall shovels the first bite into his mouth. "But what if it does?"

Louis gives Niall a pained and nonplussed look of indifference towards his first statement. "Huh?"

"I mean-" Niall makes a circular gesture with his right hand, picking up another bit of sponge cake with his left. "-what if they both understand what it means but you don't?"

"I don't understand." Liam meekly raises his hand to contribute, adding Louis' confusion to a pedestal.

Niall sighs and sets his utensil down calmly, only looking up to pin Louis' concentration with his crystal pools of ice that replaced the hollow voids of his eyesockets. "They both could.....like you, Lou."

"Hardly." Louis actually scoffs, the thought both impossible and hilarious to entertain.

"What's wrong with it?"

Louis gives Niall ten seconds to retract the question for beginning his tirade. "They're brothers, which means they both know of the other's intentions. If one did like me, the other would not try to 'take his place', so to speak."

"But wait." Liam brings their court to order with a wave of his pencil. "What if one just didn't tell the other, leading to it happening in vice versa order as well?"

"That is also possible." Louis objectively nods along. "Marcel asked me again to go to the movies with him but I said no twice. Harry didn't ask me anything."

"Marcel stood you up." Niall said bitterly. "He doesn't deserve you."

Liam is more diplomatic. "Did he tell you why he didn't come on Friday?"

"No." Louis answers quietly, staring holes into the back of his own hand while he picked at the ends of his food tray. "I just didn't want to talk about it and he understood."

No one says anything else on the matter for the rest of their lunch time, instead moving on to Niall's new Biology professor and Liam's athletic prowess.

  
* * * * *  


At the end of the school day Niall is standing beside Louis against the hood of Liam's GMC, soaking up the ideal sunlight without the scorching heat that usually comes with it. They're talking about little stuff from individually wrapped candy to the latest technological advancement in medicine, just because a decent conversation does them both good.

They also have half an hour left until Liam gets out of gym so they can all go home.

"Okay don't look." Niall grabs Louis' forearm and squeezes, eyes planted on something over the boy's shoulder.

"What?" Naturally, Louis tries to see what his best friend is on about but gets pinched viciously and cries out. "Ow!"

"Shh." Niall releases him and turns on his side, facing whatever stood behind Louis' back. "Harry is with Marcel right now and it doesn't look very pretty. Six cars down just in front of the broken water fountain."

Louis knows this spot very well. He and Niall have bunked classrooms - only during their free lessons - to get away from everything by being there, out in the open where the wind was strong and smelt of fallen leaves. 

"You know that the more we behave like this, the more likely they are to believe I'm consenting to something I don't want." Louis tells him matter-of-factly. 

Niall can't stop him from turning around then and when Louis does, he gets to see the most famous brothers in their school district having a mild argument outside the driver's door. Marcel has a rigid jaw and closed fists around the bag he's clutching, Harry's venomous speech towards him that's whispered through clenched teeth all contributing towards his discontent. 

Louis wonders whose fault this dilemma might be. It looks like two distorted mirror images having it out, made unique from some template. Marcel was so fierceless in Math or just school for that matter, but the vein sticking out through his skin said another story.

The problem isn't obvious to an outsider but soon Harry is answering a call on his phone while Marcel tosses his stuff in the back-seat and slams the door shut. Two seconds later a glossy 4x4 pulls into the property and crunches gravel beneath its monstrous build, summoning the awe and admiration of everyone present. It came to a halt just in front of Marcel and Harry but neither made a move, the darkly tinted windows remaining up while the driver's door opened.

Niall's fangirl mode is rare and a precious jewel that only Liam and Louis ever get to witness. It's not entirely an honour when he's digging his nails into Louis' arm like now. 

"That's Edward." He whispers, a little high-pitched in his voice. "The oldest."

"They're triplets." Louis rolls his eyes and giggles. "He's older by thirty seconds at least."

Edward is no doubt someone who silences the room when he steps into it, if the pin-drop blandness of their school parking lot is anything to go by. Every student still lingering by their cars, even a few teachers who are leaving an hour earlier than the others have turned their heads to watch the notorious triplets communicate.

The eldest - by thirty seconds - was a formidable presence who stepped out of the high-risen vehicle with the sense of pride any other mortal would be terrified to host. He had on a black trenchcoat that dropped to his knees, the joints and below getting covered in leather jeggings. It ended in black boots with a pointed tip. 

Wind whipped Louis' feathery hair around and he had to shield his eyes from getting blinded by the poke of them. He combs his fingers through his unorchestrated fringe and looks back at the sight to behold. 

Edward reached up to push his hair back and Louis noticed a bunch of rings on three of his fingers, the index carrying two. His knuckles were darker from a tattoo and his side profile was identical to the two brothers he stopped for. He strode over to them in two leaps and Harry stepped forth, lips working with lightning speed to say something lowly to him.

The facial expression of their most revered didn't change from impassive. He sometimes started to bite his lip but stopped short after a moment only. Then he'd shove his hands into his coat pockets and they'd stay there.

"This is intense." Niall fans himself with his hand and is subjected to his boredom, lying back against the GMC's bonnet. "How much longer will Liam take?"

Louis figures nothing else will happen worth staring for so he copies Niall, propping his feet up on the fender. "Twenty minutes." 

Niall groans and covers his eyes with his arm. Louis let's him have his small nap after prodding at the blond's hip with his bony finger for nothing but the sake of being random. He keeps the tips of his shoes on the fender whilst leaning forward, bored. 

The gravel contains no pattern or isolation for him to study so he turns his head back up, ready to watch the triplets leave and the entire school release a sigh. He doesn't see that. 

He sees them looking right back at him, having originally had their eyes on him.

"Niall." He straightens his back, most transfixed by Edward who seemed uninterested by everything but upheld his attention for Harry showing him Louis. 

"What?" Niall grumbles. 

_"Niall."_ Louis feels suffocated with three pairs of eyes, matching the origin of green but different in their resultant shades. 

Niall picks himself up and nearly falls all the way forward when he sees what Louis is talking about. He curses under his breath and scans the lot, recognising the faces of people staring at them. 

Edward lifts up one hand to his face and once more rakes it through his hair, the length matching Harry's in the exact same tone of deep chocolate brown. He pinches the bridge of his nose as if studying the face and physique of Louis, not having to squint from probable perfect eyesight. Marcel is leaning against one of their three vehicles with his arms and ankles crossed, making his muscles prominent.

Louis can see down the front opening of Edward's trenchcoat and he's got on a white shirt beneath it, a piece of Marcel and a piece of Harry. He was the template they developed on, it became evident. They weren't clones or replicas, simply just in need of the guidance their older brother had.

"What are they doing?" Louis asks, disturbed by the attention targeting him. He pushes his glasses up shakily and turns away first.

"Dunno." Niall shrugs and glances back at the gym grounds where Liam is jogging up to them. "Liam's here."

Car doors open and all three Styles brothers have gone into their separate vehicles, Edward pulling out first before Marcel and Harry. Louis feels well and truly exposed once they've gone because every other eye was zeroed in on him.

**_[A/N: This story was the most difficult to write and has to be done in two parts. I started off on one path but veered off somewhere and ended up giving Louis a piece of my mentality. Reading into it has been a bit of a trigger and I'd rather not force myself to do it all in one piece. I hope you understand and I apologise. Part two will be up soon. - S xx]_ **


	2. TWO

**_[A/N: I did some sit-ups and hurt my tummy :( Annnddd wow the feedback has been amaze-balls on this story. I hope you like this second and final component to it :) Oh! The first part of this is a flashback to that Friday when Marcel was supposed to take Louis to watch Star Wars, just in case you get confused. This story is unlike anything I've written before and by the end of this chapter you'll know why. Change in the plot-line bc this has been extended. More triggers and warnings: Domestic abuse, self-hatred, mild depression, starvation, drugs and substance abuse, prostitution (relaxxx not Lou), dub/con and sexual abuse/rape (okay worry bc Lou) (it's not sooo bad in terms of extent, I don't even write it in detail). I apologise for me breaking so many hearts with this story. It's going to be one heck of a rollercoaster. Last thing, if anyone hates then please know that you will be ignored and no life-changing decisions will be made because of it. - S xx]_ **

_Edward left his informal conversation with the familiar face of a young woman in a faux fur coat to catch Marcel at the door, slamming it shut when his younger brother almost stepped out. "Where might you be going?"_

_"Out, obviously." Marcel grabs his keys and straightens the collar of his coat, borrowed from Harry._

_Harry himself was sitting on one of the four couches in their living room with a bowl of something and the TV remote in his hand, sitting up attentively when he noticed the scene at the door. Edward didn't interact for long periods of time with either one of them and when it did, it put Harry on edge._

_"What for?" Edward retracted his hand and he couldn't have blinked because he had that uneasy atmosphere that **always** lingered above his head like a thick cloud._

_Harry couldn't just sit there and watch without clenching his fists and shaking his knee impatiently. He wanted Marcel to either just get out the door or go the fuck upstairs because it wasn't safe when Edward started questioning him._

_"I promised to see a movie with someone." Marcel knew better than to lie or add more details than necessary. Both would trigger Edward's big brother mode and it wasn't his best trait._

_"Who?" Edward kept up his inquisition, bringing the sleeve of his dress shirt towards his chest to undo the cufflinks._

_Marcel suddenly felt moisture gather at his nape, the nervous sweat sourced from his hairline. He's about to answer but every detail has slipped his mind when Edward raises his brow subtly, awaiting any response from him._

_"It can't be important if you can't remember." Edward chuckles obnoxiously and calls the girl over from her awkward station at the fireplace. He sobers up instantly. "Take her to her district."_

_Hope deflates in Marcel's chest like a bullet pierced his ribcage and he's left to be a husk of his previous self. He clenches his jaw and _almost_ protests, the antagonistic quirk of Edward's brow stating silently that he's waiting for such a thing._

_Harry's hand claps the back of Marcel's neck and grounds him, the sweat wiped off. "I'll go with him."_

_Edward waits to check whether the youngest triplet has anything to add, smirking when nothing comes of that time. "Fine. You know how to get home from her district?"_

_"Yes." Harry replies sharply, taking Marcel's keys with half himself shielding his younger sibling._

_"Yoda?"_

_Harry spends one whole moment thinking that the eldest in their home has finally lost his mind whilst Marcel's head snaps up from staring at the ground. His eyes narrow down at Edward with a spiteful glare because he knows now why this is happening._

_Edward - back when he was a tolerable specimen of mankind - was the only one who cared enough to spend time watching the Star Wars movies with him. He called Marcel Yoda and got the nickname Obi-Wan in return. Saying his piece of the communication now hinted openly that he knew precisely what Marcel's plans were tonight, squashing them on purpose just to be cruel. How he found out will always be a mystery._

_"Twenty minutes." Marcel saw red when Edward stepped closer to him, all arrogance and gloomy days. "I don't expect either of you to be back later than that."_

  
* * * * *  


"Niall, I'm hungry." Louis tells to his dear best friend who has the option of a nougat candy bar in his locker. 

Liam is frowning at the screen of his phone, thumbs tapping away as he urgently texts whoever or whichever family member it is this time. Niall picks up the required textbooks from his bag and dumps the rest into his locker.

"Here." Niall tosses him the candy bar without a second thought. It's rare when Louis asked for food and not even Niall could deny that pout.

Beaming like sunshine, Louis deftly tore open the candy wrapper and broke off a chunk. "Yay. Thanks." 

They were headed towards their final classes for this estranged Wednesday afternoon. Everyone in the school populus is supposed to be mourning the death of a student after last night's local drag racing event went horribly wrong. Louis didn't know the girl so he failed to find any remorse, but he did feel a twinge of sympathy when her parents came out of the principal's office bawling their eyes out.

School will be closed tomorrow to host a memorial and funeral for the late youngster and Louis' pair of friends already planned to drop off a bunch of roses before permanently parking off at a cliff just a little bit out of town. The space away from home and people who pressured them would do them all some good.

"What's your last class?" Liam asked after pocketing his device and accepting the offer of a candy piece from Louis.

"English." Louis sighs heavily thinking about who he shares that class with. 

He hasn't encountered Harry since their last awkward meeting just after this very same lesson, as that was yesterday. Being both anxious and doubtful of what the possible outcomes could be, Louis drags his feet to the English classroom. 

"I'm in Math." Liam took the candy wrapper as well to toss into a passing bin. "Niall is too. We'll see you later?"

"Yeah. Okay." He waved meekly to his friends as they parted and went out through the exit. 

Students were filing into their rooms for lessons or media centers for practicals. Louis chewed his lip nervously and reached out to push the door open after he became the last person standing in the hall. The silence was so soothing and reassuring that he almost didn't want to depart from it. 

The footsteps of someone approaching him, getting louder as they came, made him pause with the excuse to hang back until the last second before the tardy bell. Out of innate curiosity he wanted to know who it might be though it wasn't a do or die situation. He is human and therefore looks over his shoulder at whose boots were so heavy. 

Unfortunately for him, once he sees who it is he cannot un-see it.

"Shit." He mutters to himself as a reflex, breath hitching _just a bit_ because why did the scariest triplet have to be the one walking towards him?

 _Towards him._ Louis panics when Edward comes too close, nearly a foot and a half between them. The fabric of his coat absorbed any glow given off by the florescent lighting like he's some sort of supernatural dark creature from Hell that only took innocence and gave nothing back. 

There had to be a metaphor in there somewhere but for now, Louis is inches away from being too close to someone who looks as formidable and deathly as the weapons in Assasin's Creed.

Except, instead of the scowl that adds life to Edward's expression there's a weird little smirk that makes Louis, quite frankly, pissed off.

Tattoos and gold rings bigger than the Pope, Edward himself comes to a stop right before the boy who is slowly becoming part of the wall. He smells of musk and something _electric_ that stuns Louis' senses.

"I have no doubt that you're the one my brother had _plans_ with last Friday." Edward spoke in too husky and gravelly a voice. 

Louis subtly reached up to scratch his own throat, wincing at the effort it must take to produce such a deep sound. "Um- what?"

Edward doesn't change anything besides the intensity of his smug little look that deepens his dimples too much for it to not be lethal. "Think carefully, sweet lips. My brothers aren't the most....forgettable people." 

Unfortunately, Louis is still hung up on the odd petname that makes him open his eyes a bit wider. "Sweet what?"

With a heavy and not meaningless chuckle, Edward puts a hand up on the wall above Louis' head. He leaned in enough for it to smother Louis' personal space, leaving him reaching forward to push him back. Touching Edward's chest with his delicate palm is like holding onto rock hardened from molten lava.

"Uh- please." Louis swallows the scared lump in his throat and forgets what he was ever planning to say, just certain that he needed to say _something_. 

A blurred body that's grey in the upper half of its structure slams into Edward's side, shoving him aside with inhuman force. Louis covers his scream with his hand, shivers causing his fingers to quiver. Edward took the blow with a sickening crack between them but stayed on his feet, less than a meter created between him and Louis now. The scent of his cologne and expensive clothing slips away as a third party intervenes so violently.

Louis is entirely blocked by the minutely hunched figure standing in front of him, not visible to Edward except for his arm around some textbooks. Edward rakes a stiff hand through his hair and looks up with a murderous expression, eyes so hooded and black that it leaves Louis' spine in tremors when he gets a peek.

The body shielding him from an otherwise aggressive pursuer is Marcel, however shocking it is to consider that the youngest of three _well developed_ males had any amount of violent tendencies holed up inside him. Louis definitely trusted Marcel more than Edward, even with the brooding and clenched jaw that threatens to leave his gums in a bloodbath. 

" _What_ are you doing here?" Marcel snarls, becoming audible in his strong disliking for Edward - Louis doesn't think _hate_ is a suitable emotion between brothers.

Edward is undeterred when he glances over his sibling's tense shoulder at Louis' nervous state. He meets the boy's nervous eye before responding, hands in his pockets. "I came to meet your Louis."

Marcel says it once and it _bleeds_ with command. "No."

It amuses Edward how well Marcel illudes himself on the topic of who's in charge of every arrangement in their family. He steps forward in his brother's face without a wince of deviation in hard exterior. "He's a lovely one. I think I might have him for myself."

Louis _almost_ raises his hand all the way to protest that he isn't a bag of meat or a dose of medication. He realises that he can save his dignity at a stand-off that doesn't feel like it's crawling with tension between brothers. 

"Don't you fucking-" 

"What's going on out here?" Their ever-ready principal with his arms behind his back and neatly dressed self comes striding down the hallway in their direction.

Louis sees that Marcel's fists and tightly closed in on themselves, wanting to touch to feel how much strength he's making himself exert. He does so also for worry of what might break out right here in front of their principal, with Edward and Marcel looking at each other in a silent communication of fatal rivalry.

"Marcel." He can't raise his voice above a whisper, needing Niall for a hug this instant.

Luckily or not, he's stuck with these two raving characters built on testosterone. It's maddening and Louis feels a migraine coming on. Marcel's wrist in his hand is buzzing with the energy surging through his veins, the tiniest of vibrations rattling his core as he struggles to back away.

"Come on." He has to raise himself up on his tiptoes to whisper in Marcel's ear, trying to be more convincing by tugging on the taller individual's hand.

It all comes to a boiling point before Louis can breathe a sigh of relief, smiling very weakly at the official walking their way before pulling Marcel away. A fight is not what he wants to be the cause of. He always feels a little extra tightness in his chest when he thinks of bruises and abuse on others because he's been on the receiving end for years now. His case wasn't severe but it was still unacceptable. However, he'd rather it happen to him than some poor child with an extra chromosome somewhere.

Marcel turns around to enter the class as well, stepping ahead of Louis _by mistake_ and that's all that needs to happen. 

Edward recognizes an opprtunity and while Louis is still within his radius, reaches out to grab his hip and bends to kiss his temple. It fuses black sparks travelling in a thick, black cloud under the immediate layer of skin. Louis stiffens with a gasp and because Marcel doesn't see it but feels the change in movement, he turns around again. Edward is arrogant enough to keep his licked lips where they are against Louis' skin and that's the trigger he came here to set off.

Marcel yanks on Louis' arm to pull him away and his closed fist reers back before shooting forward, a bullet of muscle and bone that lands on impact with Edward's cheek. 

At that, Louis screams and everyone in the class is up out of their seats to do something or record everything. He spins around and looks for Harry, his target not visible through his unreliable eyes while people rush to the door when he falls back against the wall. Edward managed to dodge Marcel when another blow was delivered, instead administering a return punch that nails his younger sibling in the gut. 

Marcel doesn't make a sound beyond his grunt, induced by the agony. He holds onto that part of himself with his left hand, the pain rooting from it causing rapidly spreading misery all over him. Louis turns away from it all and hates himself so much in the two seconds he's allowed. All the drama that will be born of this afternoon will be because of him, because he just couldn't keep everything under wraps.

Out of nowhere, Harry appears to silently check on him. He takes no excuses when moving Louis' hands away from his face and calmly searches for marks or any other harm, greenest eyes on the planet becoming rock hard with anger. Louis almost wants to hug _him_ because Niall is so far away and he doesn't want Harry getting involved to make the fight bigger.

Cheers and shouts come to a stop behind him. Harry' arm snakes around Louis' shoulders without worry for permission, drawing him out of isolation and against his chest where he can be protected. Louis doesn't want it - or makes himself think he shouldn't deserve it - but Harry can't bring himself to care. He has Louis under his chin and safest in his arms, one around his back and the other limply awaiting the person who tried to take Louis away.

"In my office, Marcel! Right now!" The principal is yelling in a hoarse voice, clothing dishevelled and demeanour upheaved. "Edward, you will be held liable as well."

Something happens in the silence for a moment before a hand that isn't Harry's touches Louis' back and he flinches. It turns out to be Marcel, busted lip and cut eyebrow, not to mention to swelling on the side of his face that's the result of multiple collisions with a fist. Louis doesn't know what he's supposed to think when Marcel takes his hand and thumbs over his knuckles, smiling through a cringe and a wince. He's paralysed and Harry is still holding him around his waist, making the conflict within him almost painful.

People around them are staring if not trying to conclude the videos on their phones, most intrigued and a few nonchalant. Louis especially appreciates the latter as he pulls away from everyone that's less than a meter away from him, not letting Harry or Marcel hold him any longer. He slinks out of the room before they can try again, racing down the hall as fast as he can towards the restrooms.

Once inside the cleanest stall, he lifts the toilet lid and involuntarily gags over it. Nothing comes up even though the sting in his eyes and nausea in hus gut all signal his body's need to throw up.

He stays like that, a coward wrapped up with his own arms and trying to not think about how he's not eating enough. His face feels too hot and sweat is at the back of his neck, hair now matted with how many times he's touched it and throat feeling so clogged that breathing is difficult.

Whilst spending his time on the floor staring at the vandalism on the opposite wall, admiring whoever had the skill to draw so skilfully as well as possess the courage to do it, he contemplates his steps forward. He knows without an ounce of doubt that he has to apologise for what he caused today. It he'd just walked into the class instead of waiting for Edward to be close enough, no fight would have broken out. Marcel deserves his repentence.

Did Edward earn his apology? Would he even care to hear it with the swollen wrist and eye he's got all because of one boy? Louis doesn't think so which leads him to either letting it be or maybe sending a note. He doesn't know which one is more likely to get him laughed at.

And Harry? What did he do to have Louis' silence bestowed on him from this moment? Probably nothing but Louis can't risk it so he's going to leave the triplets alone henceforth to save them all some skin.

  
* * * * *  


Marcel got suspended and Edward has a restraining order. Their school is not producing the exceptional, media-worthy results that they are just for one bad article in the paper about students brawling in their halls. The principal was strict and made no change of judgment, which is why Louis asked to see him. He got an appointment after school and had to ask Liam to go home without him, feeling a little better about himself because he's going to take the bus home for the first time.

The principal is not any less tense now that the phones are ringing off the hook and his receptionist is battling to handle them all. Louis shuts the door to his office and takes a seat, his backpack covering his lap. Their conversation lasts a good thirty minutes, during which Louis pleads and delivers the most persuasive speech he ever could try to conjure.

His passion for wanting Marcel's punishment to be lessened was so great that he started pacing around the room, speaking with hand gestures and clearing his throat whenever his voice cracked.

When it all came to a standstill, Louis was done looking between the principal and out onto the football field through the office window. He sighed and wrung his hands together, stepping away from the glass panes and closer to his seat. 

"Louis, I know what you're trying to do." When Louis sits back down, the epitome of calm but wrecklessly nervous, he takes the seat beside him. "You have a good heart to care for Marcel when he doesn't deserve it."

Louis opens his mouth to argue that his entire monologue was about Marcel not being a guilty party, yet somehow silences himself because he's trying to get his way here. He doesn't raise his gaze from his lap for a long while, only doing so when he felt that he was actually being rude. He awaits the choice of verdict from the school official seated next to him, anxiously picking at the threads of his jeans and chewing his lip. 

A hand rests on his knee. A slightly wrinkled yet still youthful for its age hand that tightened for just a splitsecond before it released him but remained stagnant.

Never having felt this unsure and disconcerted before, Louis shifts away from the principal and even stands up to avoid being too close on any level. Eyes follow him back to the window and it makes his stomach churn to know that he might be losing this battle.

The principal wakes up from his chair and while Louis shrinks back into the corner of the wall, he clicks the lock on the door securely. A sound of security and peace of mind has turned into something vile, something callous and _invasive_.

"Take a seat, Louis." Says the harsh and morose older individual, the command not allowed sit idle in the air while Louis cautiously back into the vicinity of his chair. "No. On your knees."

  
* * * * *  


By the time Louis makes it out of the school administration building, he's throwing up in the flower bushes. The gutwrenching sounds coming from him are left as background noise to the storm breaking out around him, nothing compared to the one destroying every facet of mental stability he once claimed.

Tears roll down his face and sting his flushed skin, his body weak with a foul taste in his mouth. His back cracks and aches from how painful his angle of bending over is. He feels like he's a dead man walking, a paper tower waiting for the one blow that would knock him down to his end and he just got it in his principal's office.

He's never even has _sex_ before and this is the penalty he gets for wanting to help someone. He can never take back what he's done in order to get Marcel freed from his suspension sentence and that's what he is prepared to live with. There are extremely little to none of people left who will open their arms to a person who is as broken as he is, even before a part of his soul was defiled. 

He'd rather it be him serving a small purpose to Marcel, someone who will make a difference in this world someday, rather than it happening to a child somewhere in that world where nobody would know they screamed and sobbed.

Maybe Louis is lying to himself continually but he'd like to live this life to the bare essential stages before just.....letting go. It's always been his plan though he hid it behind the brightest smiles and loudest laughter. Oh how happy the world thought - those who did think about him - he was. 

"Lou?!" Came a disembodied but frighteningly familiar voice chasing the clap of thunder away to reach Louis' ears.

Dry heaving with a sting at the back of his throat, Louis looks pitifully up at the dark silhouette rushing towards him. He frowns when he sees who it is, falling back against their knees in his sopping wet state. Liam.

"What the Hell are you doing?" His best friend crouches down and wipes the water out of Louis' eyes, brushing his hair back and using a useless handkerchief to clean his mouth.

"Um-" Louis gets hauled to his feet and aided in walking by an arm around his middle. "I-I-I-"

"Alright. Shh." Liam gets him to his GMC that doesn't have a Niall in the back-seat munching on the candy he stores behind the driver's seat. "Get in. I have a dry shirt in there somewhere and a towel from gym."

Louis has to physically climb into the seat with a wet trail marking his pathway. His shoes land on the floor at the same time that he falls back with a dry towel in his hands and no breath left in his lungs. He hears the door close and winces at how much it resembles ten minutes ago when the same thing happened. With nothing resembling the dregs of life he once carried around, Louis closes his eyes and releases a shaky breath to the Heavens.

  
* * * * *  


Friday has only once before been such a burden to Louis when he arrives at school. When he had the flu and had to present a speech to the class after his teacher refused to extend the date for him. He had to stop halfway through his sentence about the regression of society to throw up in the bathroom sink.

Now, he is left to stand alone by his locker after Niall and Liam were off at the dead girl's funeral. Louis had to be here after a last minute notice was given to students in his AP Physics class to attend a two hour session of tuition. 

He can't taste the air when he breathes and his nose is blocked from yesterday's rendezvous in the rain. Anyone who walks by him makes him cringe because of the sliver of possibility that they'll touch him and, innocently or not, he doesn't think he can handle to contact today. Everything he does comes across as scared and nervous, unsure. He takes books out of his locker and twice it falls, the pain of it hitting his toes not registering anymore than the frustration of having it fall. He wants to cry whenever it happens, or shout at something.

Staring blankly, he leans forward into the space of his locker where he feels a smidgen of safety and scratches at the metal wall. It makes him feel grounded when he sees three other scratch marks from other moments like this. He got through them and he can do it again.

Louis _hates_ swallowing now because of having to do so with the worst of substances. It felt like it was happening over and over again with the same person, same locked room with no escape. He knows he has to do it though or let his mouth fill up which _even thinking about it_ makes him release a soft sob. Instead, Louis wipes away the moisture on his tongue with the long sleeve of his shirt each time. 

The bell is about to ring when someone _does_ touch him from behind and it's such a large plane of skin wrapped around his wrist that he thinks of the principal and he screams.

Upon being hastily spun around and meeting the eye of _Marcel_ , he swallows his fear and settles. "H-Hi, Marcel. You scared me."

Louis still yanks his hand back and bows his head, the dozens of eyes on them because of his exclamation earlier not relenting. 

"Louis-" Marcel speaks in a whisper, some meaning behind it that the boy can't decipher. "Louis, are you okay?"

Out of his newfound obedience, he looks up and shrugs. Then he remembers that nobody else is supposed to know about how fucked up he considers himself to be, and smiles. "I'm good. The storm got to me yesterday."

Marcel doesn't believe him for a splitsecond because Louis' smiles were so genuine they softened the hardest of egos. "Oh. I meant actually....I'm not suspended anymore."

Louis keeps up his smile and swaps his misery for broadening it. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "Yeah? That's great."

"What-" He looks about ready to ask what Louis was doing but let it be. "I'm sorry about Edward, Louis. He....I hate him."

"He's your brother." Louis says softly. 

"Yes but he's also a monster." Marcel sighs and takes a step back, Louis' heart spacing out a little. 

"Um- Why are you in school?" Louis asks, his nails raking over the spine of his textbook. 

"I knew you'd be here." Marcel smiles and Louis envies him. "Thought I'd consider asking you to play hookie with me."

Louis is already shaking his head, eyes wide with surprise. "N-No. I really don't need to get in trouble."

"Please?" Marcel has the worst puppy dog eyes. They're absolutely ridiculous.

"Marcel, I-" Louis stutters when he thinks that he should probably admit his plan to stay away from them for their own good. "I can't be your friend."

The sobering of Marcel's expression scares Louis and he presses his back into the lockers. Being taller and more intimidating, Marcel takes away the space he granted Louis. Louis wipes his mouth more furiously this time and folds his arms over his tummy.

"Louis, don't let Edward scare you." Marcel sounds so heartbreakingly sincere. "He's not going to hurt you, I swear."

"N-No. I mean-" Louis stares up into the green powerhouses towering over him. "I mean I-"

"What happened to you?" Marcel has a look of scrutiny in his eye. "You're different."

"Am not." Louis weakly mutters. He feels tired already. "You're the one with the broken face."

The corner of Marcel's mouth twitches as Louis wipes his mouth again. His wrist is caught before he actually can and Marcel briefly looks at it, leaving Louis a vegetable and worried all over again.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Marcel doesn't release his wrist and his cologne is too strong for Louis' blocked nose, making it turn red and ache.

Louis shakes his head.

"Tell me!" Marcel roars before he can stop himself, appalled at the way Louis winces and fights to get his hand back. 

"Nothing!" Louis feels mighty exhausted after he returns the shout, blue eyes are bloodshot from no sleep with purple bags underneath them and trembling lips. 

He's a beautiful mess and Marcel wants nothing more than the opportunity to pick up the pieces.

"If you don't tell me yourself, Louis, I will find out." Marcel makes himself clear on his intentions, the green of his eyes turning to rapid flame. "I know someone hurt you and- oh God no. Louis, did you get my suspension lifted?"

Louis plans to say no, shout it from the rooftops and flaunt his denial but instead he looks more doubtful and uncertain than ever before and that's all the response Marcel needs.

"You spoke to the principal?" Marcel wants to know the details, the grimey, horrific details.

Louis wipes his mouth again using the other sleeve and sniffs numbly. 

It seemed logical didn't it? Louis could have been the only one who felt involved and guilty enough to do something like that. Harry strictly didn't care and Edward was more delighted with the violence and Marcel's punishment than he should be. He knew nobody else who'd fight a case and win besides himself. 

"I'm not asking, Louis." He's nothing like he's taciturn brothers when it comes to solving something. He will drive this argument home. "I didn't tell you to do that and now I want you to tell me the truth."

It astounds Louis how ungrateful Marcel is being after the Hell's gateway he went through to get him freed. He scowls and turns away when the other male tries to regain his focus.

"Leave me alone, Marcel." Knowing that his body was used - to little extent but the torture was no less horrific - for _nothing_ is twice as painful as walking to school today and seeing their principal kiss his wife goodbye before she drove off. 

"I won't." Came his only reply that made Louis almost want to groan and not be boxed in right now so he could walk away.

"Please." He didn't think he'd say it even though his mind kept repeating the plea. 

Marcel feels sympathy for this one insecurity that has been brought to light and cares enough to once again step back. "Answer me in monosyllables then, okay?"

Louis starts to shake his head but Marcel grabs his chin and stops him, the touch making Louis gasp and hiss like it burned. He fussed with himself until his nerves were moderately sated, holding onto Marcel's wrist just so he could control it if he.....wasn't as noble as Louis thought.

"Did you talk to the principal?" The fire and storm in Marcel's crystalline eyes are undeniable. 

"Y-Yes." Louis tugs on his captor's wrist but it's like pulling on steel. He needs to wipe his mouth again.

"About my suspension?" 

Another nod because Louis can't bring himself to open his mouth when he's so close to choking on his own saliva. 

Marcel has two horns and a tail for Louis at this moment, the cruelty of him keeping the boy secured and fastened meaning that he can't take care of what he needs to do. It's like he's waiting to see what Louis does.

"He agreed after you asked?" He continues, the brush of his thumb over Louis' hairless chin not going unnoticed. Marcel tries again when he gets no answer. "He wouldn't have just lifted a punishment like that, Louis."

 _Well, he didn't._ Louis' fingers tighten around Marcel's bony forearm and resists the need to cough. He was struggling for breath by this point. The thumb and index supporting his chin is released and Louis grabbles for a tissue of some sort. All he finds is a handkerchief from Marcel's pocket being offered to him.

Independence dictates that he do this himself but Marcel is a stubborn fool and takes no prisoners when it comes to his smouldering intentions yet innocent looks. Like Harry took Louis' glasses off and wiped them at the expense of his branded shirt with the finest fabric, so too now does Marcel unknowingly attempt to replicate that nobility. 

Rather than allowing for Louis take his handkerchief and do with it as he pleases, Marcel solidifes his stance that's an inch or two away from Louis' chest. He brings both hands up to the smaller, far more petite boy's face with enough purpose just for one. Noticing how Louis' expression morphs from wild trepidation to outright horror, Marcel refuses to let his intention disipitate when he's _so close_.

Louis' lips part for Marcel's fingertip and they draw back to reveal his perfect teeth, just one crooked on the left side. Marcel finds it to be the most endearing thing he's ever seen. He let's Louis decide and when he receives so wails, brings the material up to his mouth. His thumb adds pressure at the seam of Louis' lips and he feels a little moisture gather before it soaks the cloth and feels tastefully strange for them both.

After he's as certain that Louis is better as he is of his rights at birth, Marcel pulls away but remains within glorified _touching_ distance.

"I-I've got to go, Marcel." Louis confesses but he isn't convincing himself entirely that separating from this perculiar male will be good for him.

"Do you want me to let you go?"

Bunking didn't sound so bad, did it?

**_[A/N: I'm so heavily conflicted about this story but please give me your thoughts on it to settle my uneasseee. - S xx]_ **


	3. THREE.

**_[A/N: Yippee is a weird word, innit? I was thinking about actually publishing one of my books when I turn 18 this year, changing the names and such. Which one do you think I should consider? O.o - S xx]_ **

Louis couldn't possibly have seen a home more majestic than the one Marcel has brought him to before their journey to somewhere _even more_ desirable. 

Any house with pillars at the forefront and double the amount of suitable sized balconies for each window on the second layer must indicate wealth for the owners. Louis was in awe of the structure with a circular driveway made with cobble stones to provide that satisfactory crunch beneath the high pressure tyres.

"You live here?" He asks quietly, still floored by how the _mansion_ has its own shadow and personality. 

"Yes." Marcel pulls back the handbrake and unbuckles his own seatbelt that Louis didn't bother to put on. "Would you like to come in?"

After wiping his mouth with his new favourite handkerchief, Louis shakes his head and looks away out the window again. He'd tarnish an image so laden with beauty by setting foot in it. There was such strength and stability depicted in the foundation of this home, in its owners. He was the complete opposite.

Marcel seems to dissect his thoughts and after jumping off, walks around to Louis' door to open it for him. "Come on. It's not that scary."

Of course he'd say something like that as bait, to reel Louis into smiling and thinking that scary is the only description of this home. By using it Marcel brought the palatial structure down in anyone's eyes and left Louis to feel a bit more attractive than it.

"I'm not scared." Louis pointed out with an infamous pout which is rare but a precious gem for the eye of the beholder. 

With a chuckle, Marcel doesn't try to touch Louis more than his hand hovering over his lower back to usher him up the stairs. "I'm sure you're not afraid of anything."

Louis steps past the opened door and is hit with a sudden blast of cold air from the controlled temperature indoors. It should be pleasant but he's become so accustomed to drastic weather, from weakly humid to unbearable, that this is very chilly for him. He rubs his arms over the numerous goosebumps rising to the occasion, wiping his mouth again.

"This is the kitchen." Marcel immediately leads him to the left out of the foyer, the waxed tile clicking against the slight heels of his weird boots.

Following behind closely but not enough so as to be within reaching distance, Louis keeps his arms crossed over his chest with the handkerchief balled up in one fist. He's never felt so _small_ before and that's another thing he's not too proud about.

"Are you hungry?" Marcel asks, walking around the glistening linoleum counter towards the refrigerator for two bottles of water.

Louis shakes his head, certain of this, and studies the contours of everything with his eyes. The bar stools are perfectly aligned and the living room this kitchen leads into his organised to the finest thread. Everything was polished or scrubbed, not a fingerprint in sight.

"Harry's here." The other present says. 

"Oh." Louis doesn't know what Marcel wants him to think after mentioning that so he doesn't take the time to.

"What could I have done to earn your disinterest, Louis?" Marcel was uncapping his water bottle and didn't notice, as well as Louis, that Harry was standing behind them both in the doorway to the kitchen.

Now looking up, the youngest triplet isn't too pleased about having his far more brutish brother in the same room with Louis. Louis himself has his reservations about it and his stress levels spike phenomenally when Harry covers the two steps at his feet and approaches him. Harry is likened to a bare chested God in Louis' eyes, eyes that have seen many beautiful things and never once been themselves treasured. 

"How did the baby of the family manage to get you into our home?" Harry is smirking devilishly like he knows the answer before Louis can sputter and humiliate himself.

When he does speak for the first time since walking in here, those dark and intense hooded eyes turn soft with something unspoken. "I-I came willingly." 

He doesn't know why he chose to say those words, to make it clear that he wasn't forced into anything. A head taller Harry was but Louis didn't look up to see how the furrow of his brow lightened. It would have been a sight to behold if he had because something so warm and gentle has never been directed at him before.

"Alright." Marcel gets flustered and irritable just watching them interact, something unorthodox flaring in his chest. He hopes to permanently intervene when he takes three strides in their direction. "We're-"

"Did my brother tell you his suspension was lifted?" Harry nonetheless says to Louis, ignoring the persistence of his sibling trying to stop him from doing that.

Louis sucked in a sharp breath that whistled through his teeth and scraped his raw throat. He fish mouthed in horror and disgust, horror aimed at the fact it seemed Harry could see right through him and any probable lie with those deep eyes. The disgust was at himself and he couldn't find enough bleach in the world to fix it.

"Y-Yes." He managed to pull through an actual, stuttered word response. 

"No need to be nervous." Harry's dimpled smirk was so unnerving, especially when his head tilted a little to the left like a sadistic puppy. "I won't hurt you. In fact, I have a doctor's appointment in an hour. Would you like to-"

"What the Hell, Harry?" Marcel's flattened palm slams onto the cold granite surface. 

Harry's lethal innocence turned to glare at his younger brother in distrust capped off with a pointed scowl. "Can I help you?"

Marcel takes great care to stalk around the island and come to a stop in front of Louis, ignoring the boy's wide eyes of surprise and shields him from a man who won't cause him an inkling of harm. 

" _I_ brought him here." Marcel seeths, coming across as twice as vulgar as any persona of his Louis' seen before with the scorch of his emerald eyes. "So you can fuck off."

"Oh!" Harry shouts with a hoarse round of laughter, his shoulders shaking with it and when his arms lower to his sides Louis notices exactly how _tightly packed_ his body is with muscle sculpted by the finest chisel. "You were planning on wooing him at the bloody carnival or something twice as juvenile?"

 _Wait._ Woo? Woo who? Louis frowns as he thinks this over in epic disbelief. _Woo him_. He looks around for a very small moment to ensure there aren't any other 'him' characters to undertake the role but no, it's just his timid self. Louis wipes his mouth twice after his internal sufferance.

"Why should it matter when you were going to take him to the _doctor_?" Marcel exaggerates with a clenched fist. 

Is this even a legitimate conversation? If it is then why does Louis have to bear witness to such ridiculous behaviour? He's stunned by the madness travelling as a hereditary gene in this bloodline. 

"What are you bastards fighting about now?" Enters a third voice from behind Louis that makes him whip around to identify the speaker.

In walks the frightening yet delicious sight of Edward in all his tattooed, pierced glory. The one on his lower lip shimmers from the chandelier's light and his tattoos appear to be ultra black against his pale skin. That's not the feat to notice though, for there is _a girl_ trailing after him. 

She's in a long coat and has flowing, pin straight blonde hair to complement her tastefully tanned skin. She looks up from ground with dark brown eyes and pierced lips, her heels clicking against the marble yet she gave off no confidence and the noise seemed to scare her more than her companion. Louis instantly wants to befriend her.

"Nothing." Marcel and Harry reply in unison, two gruff tones of different wavelengths meeting in the middle for the perfect medium.

Edward raises his eyebrow and comes to a halt not three feet from Louis' first available span of skin. He scans over the boy's presence with a smirk teasing his lips, however it falls instantly when Louis wipes at his lips furiously before bowing his head to look away. For a moment he just stares at the boy but he clears his throat and steps past him when he's had his full for the moment of what beauty should be defined as. 

"You're both in school." Edward snaps, clearly still miffed by the disturbance to his previous business. "You should be occupying yourself better."

"I don't think how we allocate our occupations is any of your business." Harry defends with authority and a tough attitude. 

His older sibling meets his eye with corrupt, dull green orbs that haven't seen the brighter side of this world. "Or rather, it is. _In fact_ , it's my business before it is yours. Now, I need you to-"

"No."

The room thickens in tension and one can _slice_ the arrogance from Edward mixing with Harry's defiance in the air. Louis steps back so he's almost a component of the kitchen island, curling his fingers and scraping his nails against the soft flesh of his palm. He wipes his mouth with the soiled handkerchief and glances between the triplets in worry, spotting the estranged female now watching him.

"What?" Edward was a formidable force to be reckon with when he asked this, hands leaving his pockets and shoulders squaring.

"I said no." Harry shrugs with his simple response and crosses his bulking arms over his chest. "Louis and I were just going on a date to the doctor."

"No, you're not!" Marcel takes his cue to throw his hands up, enraged and aggravated by his brother's audacity.

Edward's tongue darted out to wet his lips, briefly glancing sidewards at their finest guest. Louis is looking at the ground, studying the toes of his shoes.

With him maintaining that posture, mind afloat with a million thoughts and nowhere to put them after deliberation, something gets hurled at Marcel's person and Louis nearly gets bombarded in his face if it weren't for Edward grabbing it at sudden impulse.

Louis' attention snaps up from the ground to witness Edward's arm lowering, a rolled-up glossy magazine now in his hand. His eyes dart over Edward's shoulder to the other Styles brothers, growing wide when he suspects that Harry was the one to aim that magazine. It's nearly outrageous to think he _threw a magazine_ at his brother's face only to have it dodged and caught by his other sibling.

This particular family is unpredictable and vagrantly crazy.

Harry doesn't look like he's much affected by what he'd attempted and Marcel is just raking his fingers through his hair, adding more grease to it with the constant contact. He gets frustrated towards the end and groans loudly with a tug on his locks. 

There happens to be no means of getting out because Edward drops the offending missile onto the floor and faces his brothers with a special kind of malevolence. He doesn't let a moment of silence go by before he's barking orders again, every word fuelled by his foul mood.

"Why _the Hell_ can't I see a day that doesn't involve you two motherfuckers fighting?!" He roars, making both Louis and the stranger girl flinch. 

"Edwa-" One of them tries to speak but the eldest is still far too pissed to be interrupted.

"You're _both_ taking Linda back to her district." He says through gritted teeth, a jaw screwed so tight that it has to hurt. "Right now!"

A gruesome minute ticks by before anyone decides to do anything. _Linda_ meets Louis' eye and they both might be equally as terrified of these sociopathic brothers. He can't pull up a tight smile like he usually can but she can, and it's the most settling thing he's seen today.

"Harry has to go to the doctor." Marcel says first with a tired sigh, one hand in his pocket. "I'll just take her."

Everyone takes a breath waiting for Edward to object and shout again but he doesn't and Linda follows Marcel out the door to the awaiting cars outside. Harry spins around on his heel after winking at Louis, the ever-so charming fool, and follows after them to his own car. 

Louis' heart rate escalates painfully when he's left in shocking silence with the most frightening man to ever have walked the earth. Possibly. He curls his fingers around the talisman that is the handkerchief he was given, squeezing it too tightly and wishing he were anywhere else.

"Now that I've cleared our schedules." Edward turns to face him once again, the blackness of his eyes raining uncertainty onto Louis' harmless, pure sapphires. "How would you like to accompany me somewhere?"

The boy's first reflex is to shake his head repeatedly, wanting his response of the negative to be absolutely certain. That doesn't turn out to be good enough for Edward and he steps impossibly closer to make Louis' breath hitch, his panic rise all over until he's choking on it because his personal space is vanquished.

"Do you have a problem with me, sweetlips?" Edward is wanting to _touch_ Louis' cheek where the boy is staring at him, spooked evidently. 

Louis circles his hand inadequately around Edward's wrist when he dares to try carrying out the deed. He squirms against the pillar Edward boxed him in at and desperately turns his head to the other side, involuntarily releasing a soft sob when the other's finger trails across his jaw. The touch was _scorching_ and Louis couldn't breathe around it, a flood of harsh memories from being touched and spoken to without consent coming his way.

"Whatever misery you've been through-" Edward's hand is curled around Louis' throat, keeping him pinned and attentive. "-I can bet every penny I have that I've seen and survived it for a longer time. You'll get over it and I'm going to show you how."

  
* * * * *  


"Don't you _dare_ touch that door handle." Edward's knuckles turn white where he's gripping the steering wheel fiercely.

Louis drops his hand from the door to his lap, twisting the fabric of a new handkerchief that _Edward_ had given him at the house. He let's his head remain bowed and anxious, his knees brought up to his chest where he tried to hide himself. 

"S-Sorry." He stutters, then winces at the door slamming shut before heavy boots crunching on the stone starts getting louder and finally his door is yanked open.

They're at some sort of harbour restaurant that Edward gave him no choice in going to or not. He was carried protesting to the monstrous Rolls Royce and buckled in like a child, leading to now when he's curled up in his seat silently without shoes on staring at the dimming sky. 

He isn't sure if this is Edward's twisted idea of the pleasantries behind a date but Louis' never been on one so he can't really say.

"What's the matter now?" Edward stood impatiently with the door open and waiting for Louis to do something. 

In his head he's doing a fairly excellent job of being the dominant half attending a date. He plans to pay for everything and has brough Louis to an exceptional restaurant, is even holding all the doors open for the other boy. Yet Louis is so damn reluctant and he can't explain any of it.

Louis pulls his shoes back on over his sockless feet and unbuckles his seatbelt, cautiously slipping out of the very well serviced and expensive car that cramps his personal securities. The air outside is salty and filled with sounds of seagulls with background rustling of trees. 

"Do you think this meets your standards?" Edward locks the flashiest vehicle parked here and shoves his hand deep into his coat pocket. 

Glancing to his left where the man stood, just the _tiniest_ of smiles quirking his thin pink lips. "May-Maybe."

Edward's chuckle is gruff and questioning when his hand hovers over Louis' lower back. "Have you been here before?"

Louis shakes his head and tucks the lower half of his face into the folded collar of his jacket. It smells of fragranced fabric softener and he can smile from how familiar it is to him. He tenses from Edward's hand resting on his back as they make their way closer to the eating establishment.

Inside the structure is air-conditioned and just the perfect degree of cool, with quiet chatter and the ambiance of it all brimming with warmth and candlelit booths. Louis can see himself enjoying any amount of time spent in this place. However, his current companion has an expression of being unimpressed while Louis is flawed. 

Edward ignores any of the waiters and finds them seats by the window himself, smirking at Louis' unsure stance beside the table. "Don't be afraid, sweetlips. Not when you're with me."

Louis takes off his jacket slowly and drapes it over his lap, crossing one leg over the other when two black menus are laid out in front of them. "W-Why are we here?"

Edward's deep green individual peeks into the forestry of his mind sneaks a glimpse over the top of his menu at Louis. "Through hearsay I am aware that this restaurant is a noteworthy one."

"Then-" Louis frowns to himself and picks at the edges of a tissue he took from the dispenser. "-why do I have to be here?"

"We're on a date, sweetlips. I would have thought you'd be familiar with the concept."

Louis' brain short circuits for a while, his focus otherwise staring unhindered at Edward's unwavering eyes. He fishmouths out of confusion and fidgets in his seat, wanting to run away back home and lock his bedroom door.

"N-No we're not." Louis' brows come together, making him uncertain of anything he's saying.

Edward drops his menu with a loud snap and it gets Louis' attention. "I beg to differ, sweetlips."

"I-I didn't say yes. You can't just-"

"I can and that's exactly what I'm doing." The older male says, making his words crisp and poignant so they reach the base of Louis' spine like silk threads. "Nobody denies me anything."

"That's-" Louis pushes his menu away and sniffles, confused and a lot nervous now. "That's an obnoxious thing to say."

Edward leans forward on his elbows on the polished table and the corner of his mouth turns up in a crooked smirk. "That happens to be your opinion, sweetlips."

Louis draws back. "B-But you-"

"Do me a favour, sweetlips." Edward is abruptly getting up after pushing his chair back. "If you still think me to be _obnoxious_ even after what I'm about to show you, I will leave you alone."

  
* * * * *  


He's been brought back to school grounds long after the last class was out for the half day and the building was locked up.

"What are we doing here?" Louis questions when Edward parks in a spot between two other familiar pricey vehicles and has taken on a whole new attitude.

Louis can see the tightening of his jaw and the whitening of his knuckles, eyes blown so dark that they're pitch black in comparison to midnight's shade of navy. He can feel the tension and something far more formidable radiating off the eldest triplet like icicles of hatred and rage, sewing into the storm of his mood.

"Don't." Edward snaps when Louis tries to open his own door once again. 

He retracts his hand once more and let's Edward come around the front, open his door and slam it shut after he's jumped out. Louis doesn't want to look at his school, feels to ashamed to as he wipes at his chapped lips again and again without noticing how Edward is watching him.

Nonetheless, Edward says nothing and holds the door open for Louis to step through. His footing is unstable and he drags his feet when he is indoors, gasping when Edward comes up right behind him in a back to chest connection.

"Get moving, sweetlips." Edward doesn't go beyond touching Louis' arms and nudging him along. 

"I-I don't want to." Louis shakes his head and turns back around. He can't do this again, not on a day when he promised himself distance from this place.

Edward sighs and wraps his arms around Louis' shoulders, surprising the boy into trying to shove him off. It's futile because Edward merely _waits_ for his resistance to end before spinning him back around and forcing him to walk. When Louis slowed down he encouraged him further and guided him through the halls to where they ought to go.

Louis makes the decision to go with it, biting his lip incessantly until they finally get there and he's riddled with hopelessness. The principal's office.

"You can stop worrying now." Edward looks into his troubled blue eyes and finds a little home for himself he'll _never_ give up for anything or anyone.

Before Louis is allowed to answer with his sputtering, pained words, Edward leaves him standing by the lockers with the structure as a support system. He strips off his coat and throws it over the edge of the locker by Louis' head, his silk shirt riding up to expose a twisted band of thorns around his low hips. There's a discoloured pale scar across his left hip bone that catches Louis' eye, stored away in observations.

"You're here early." A voice from behind Edward greets them. _Harry_.

Louis is puzzled by them both being here and what they're here to show him. He is only revealed to Harry when Edward finishes folding up his sleeves and turns around, leaving a subtle scent of his cologne to fog Louis' senses.

"You brought him here?" Harry looks at Louis like he never expected to see him again, his eyes narrowing on the boy. 

"He deserves to be here." Edward shrugs just as Marcel takes a few steps out of the opened door to the headmaster's office. 

As Louis' pulse starts to thicken, he looks between the three of them utterly lost for thoughts and words. There was no other soul in the school, at least he thought that to be true up until he heard a grumbled noise coming from somewhere behind all three notorious triplets. He tried to peer past them but their towering heights and strengths kept him afoot.

"Recognise that voice?" Harry sounded like he intended to make his words Louis' torment while they were soft and harmless to disinterest ears. 

Louis could only look at him in alarm and a complete shift in his internal battle with his shrivelling wits. He _did_ know that voice to belong to the aged monster whose name was up on the office door.

"You do." Harry had a storm brewing in both pulsating green orbs, the promise of something gory present in their howling winds. "Don't worry, pet. I won't go easy on him."

The realisation hit Louis like a speeding cargo train travelling with far more intensity than is designated to it. It nearly steals away the air in his lungs and threatens to overrule his sanity when Harry turns his back to him, re-entering the office without a word. Edward soon follows after with an impatient twitch from his lips, confusing a smirk and a scowl. 

Marcel gets caught in Louis' hold of both hands the pleading of his eyes, demanding with his weak will to know what is to come of this. He wants nothing more than to let them go in there and do what their nobility dictates they must, but what about the aftermath? How far will the demons in their heads make them go?

"H-How?" Is all he can force himself to ask, insides trembling and ribcage constricting. How did they come to know about this?

Now he doesn't feel tremors and repulsiveness when Marcel reaches up to frame his cheek, a dark knight in glistening armour. He feels lips on his forehead and his breath catches in his throat. "You have a lot to run away from. We're going to help you."

That's all he gets from the youngest before he leaves to rejoin his brotherin. Louis' back collides with the adjoined lockers with a frail sob and he slides to the ground, his body folding itself into a protective ball. His bum hits the ground and he allows the silent misery to rack his body, turn him inside-out until he's seeing through tears and scratching nervously at his own wrists to make it all better or worse.

Time doesn't so him any mercies and he hears every cry from within those office walls. The pleas go unheard and punished; the hoarse outbursts are shut up with something _painful_ and Louis swallows the lump in his throat when a red splatter slashed across the frosted glass of a closed door. That's it for him really and he fights the struggle to get up on his feet, the crime of what's going on in there too much for him. 

How vile will the resultant be? He wants it to be the absolute worst, and not just a tiny part of him. His memories shout and beg for the harshest cruelty to delivered unto a man who violated the chastity he had, but the sight of dripping blood and the dead silence from the other side of that door scares him to his bones.

He's standing with no strength and holding onto a stranger's locker for support, unable to wipe his tears away. Swallowing felt like ingesting molten ash and it tasted so foreign, so deadly yet he had to do it. With each stroke of a blade in there he was feeling more healed here, his gashes and stitches sealing with the well-being of his heart.

No more than ten whole breaths later that door rattles a bit before a shadow comes into view and the handle twists, revealing the first of his heroes. Were they heroes? He was certain they are. Villainous heroes that he'd applaud any day.

Harry comes out first looking utterly calm with the crimson splatters and ruined fabric of his shirt, sleeves folded up and whole hands bloody to a magnificent extent. He hardly has time to look up before there's a boy in his murderous arms, embracing him with gratitude and kept mumbling it repeatedly into Harry's pectoral. 

Louis felt filthy when Harry hugged him back, bloody arms on his back and around him. He's also never felt more protected by one other person, and found solace easily in it. The smell of crusted blood and rust never left him, seemed to fester in his senses but he dried his tears on Harry's shirt and balled his hands up into fists gripping the silky material. His teeth latched onto some of it too and Harry couldn't give a damn about any holes he made with small, sharp canines.

"I fulfilled my promise, pet." Harry's chin rested on Louis' head and he pressed his lips to the shivering boy's hair. "You're welcome."

Louis' eyes squeezed shut and he opened them to Marcel wiping his hands on his shirt, the article of clothing removed from his body. He sniffled and met the other male's eye with trepidation, all his worries becoming soothed by Marcel smiling easily down at him. 

"It's all better now, love." He recites from his heart, briefly shooting Harry a dark look. 

Edward is shrugging his coat back on over the ruined state of his clothing, fingers still swiping blood smears across everything they touched. Louis found him to be the most disinterested in destroying something, alive or otherwise. Somehow, Edward's demon was the most powerful.

Harry had let him go, no further contact other than a peck on his temple and walks towards the exit with Marcel.

Louis watches them go and wishes they wouldn't. They both push open the double doors and he jumps from Edward connecting their hands. He looks up at the man in fright then mere nervousness, out of his peripheral noticing how disastrous the principal's office now is. _Late_ principal.

"Still hate me?" Edward asked Louis to get his concentration back to where it belongs.

Meeting the deepest green eyes that had stories of their own, Louis is tempted to say no and he manages to shake his head to answer too. He gets his fingers pried apart for Edward's to slot themselves between, and Louis can _see_ the difference in personalities by just looking down at that.

"Let's have that date then."


	4. FOUR.

**_[A/N: Do you ever think that maybe there's a couple out there living the ideal fanfic life? O.o - S xx]_ **

Edward brought Louis back to the restaurant by the seaside they'd come to earlier. The outstanding difference between the two visits happens to be that Louis feels like he's being dragged through the clouds rather than walking on them. His chest was abundantly lighter on his conscience but his shoulders were permanently hunched, fearful and hesitant about everything around him.

The world was so much bigger than when he couldn't see past just his ordinary daily routine. He is brought past all his emotional barriers by first Marcel and then Harry, now the impatient specimen of creatures God carved himself that's holding his hand. What was he going to do about it all?

They _killed_ for him. He doesn't think his own parents would do that for him, and yet there's no logical reason behind why they'd risk so much trouble for plain ol' him.

He's not gung-ho about finding out why either, far too poisoned with the idea that doing so will shatter the hallucinative safe-haven he's conjured up for himself. Louis would much rather remain silent and happy - something he hasn't been in a long while - than question anything. He owes it to the triplets now.

"Take a seat. Your waiter will be with you shortly." The first attendant who led them to their booth by the window instructs.

Louis' pretty sure she smiled at him but he was caught unprepared and forgot to smile back. Edward blatantly ignored her politeness and sat down, waiting expectantly for his companion to do the same. His shirt was still stained in a dying shade of red, but it was now hidden behind his buttoned jacket.

Their gazes meet for a split-second over the mini candlestick and Louis is the first to look away, afraid of what he might see in those hooded eyes. Heat rises to his cheeks and he doesn't try to hide it.

"Why do you shy away from me?" Edward sits back in his seat like a King and Louis knows he could never pull off that kind of bravado. "Am I that repulsive to you?"

"N-No!" Louis rushes to answer, eyes growing wide with panic. "No, you're not um-......no."

Louis is quite proud of himself for getting words out at all. He may not be the most eloquent he's ever been but it's still something that amuses Edward into chuckling across the table. The other present male holds fort with his tickled composure, armed with an infamous crooked smirk meant to cause shivers down the curve of Louis' smile.

"If you're going to be nervous around me, sweetlips, I want to be the only one with that honour." Edward states simply like it could be the easiest thing in the world. 

Puzzled, Louis opens his mouth respond but somehow he doesn't get the words out fast enough before their waiter is there to take their orders. 

Edward chose his meal first without so much as glancing at the menu, which granted Louis enough time to make a decision. He picked some sort of mini pizza because the toppings listed below its Italian name sounded most appealing. 

"Dessert?" The server then asked, scribbling a note on her writing pad.

Something shocking flittered across Edward's eyes, those piercing green marbles passing a secret to Louis' soft blue replicas. The corner of his mouth twitched from something amusing when he responded.

"No." He shook his head and straightened the front of his jacket impulsively. "I've got mine."

Louis gasps at the inappropriate comment after his brain pieces two and two together, the waiter being no more than humoured lightly as well. His cheeks flame up as a result of Edward's words and he let's his head fall forward, staring intently at the threads of his jeans.

"It's not worth it to hide, sweetlips." Edward discourages his behaviour with a chuckle. "I'd like to see you as much as hear your voice."

"There's nothing to see." It slips out before he can regret it and shove it back down his throat. 

While he wants to pinch himself for saying anything, Edward's brows come together in a disapproving furrow. "What did you say?"

This was a bad, bad idea for Louis. 

"N-Nothing. I-" He takes a breath and turns in his chair to get up hurriedly, feeling antsy and targeted the longer he sat here. "I should go. I'm sorry."

"Sit down." Edward gets to his feet as well, not careful to mind the lump in Louis' throat when he grabs his wrist. His mood is clouded by a dark grey cloud and he looks a man who hasn't been told no all his life. "I will make you do it if you don't, sweetlips."

"I really just-" Louis balls his fists up and tries to free his own. "I want to go home. Please."

There's not a haunted thing in Edward's eyes that soften at hearing those words. Something does _snap_ however and suddenly Louis' being dragged through the restaurant to the only exit available. He keeps up by almost jogging to maintain Edward's long strides in his pace, mumbling unheard apologies to other patrons. His feet touch the pebbled ground outside and his back hits a wall, breath knocked out of him and the sunlight shielded by Edward towering over him. 

"I gutted a man for you today. The least you could do is spare me the courtesy of a fucking meal." The older male who has the height and toned muscle structure to intimidate Louis into wrapping his arms around himself. "Stop that. I won't hurt you."

Louis doesn't know what he means, too caught up in the storm that is each of the pulsating emeralds boring into his ribcage, until Edward takes his hands and yanks them apart. His arms fall to his sides and pain shoots up to his shoulders, a hiss leaving his parted lips with a wince. 

" _Ow_ , Edwa-"

"Shut up." He is ordered furiously, eyes growing to saucers and pupils dilating when Edward moves so much closer to him. 

Leaving his hatred for invaded personal space and misery behind, Louis' breathing becomes choppy and he turns his head to the side. His lungs desperately take in fresh air when Edward tries to be the one who gets to give him that, become his raw resource.

Edward takes Louis' hands and puts them on his chest, palms resting over his firm torso. Louis can feel his heartbeat beneath his fingertips and wants to know what this all means. He bites his own lip and his mouth nearly overflows with his need to wipe it, dry what saliva has gathered there. 

" _Louis_." Edward snarls in his ear, leaving Louis to experience a round of shudders. "Stop hiding from me."

Louis is afraid of what he'll see when he actually looks at Edward, and so closes his eyes when the man forcefully tilts his chin towards him. He seals his lips tightly and squirms at the pressure of a thumb rubbing his puffy cheek.

Edward sucks in a sharp breath, both astounded and wounded by the precious sight of the most beautiful creature on Earth fearing him. "Please, sweetlips. You're leaving me a broken man."

Slowly those Mediterranean orbs come back to life after a period of hibernation, a fresh taste of curiosity present around the edges. Louis wanted to know what he meant and Edward sighed heavily, his entire hand framing the boy's cheek. His resentment towards saying anything at all slowly dwindled as that soul-seeking shade of blue cradled itself in his chest.

"I did what I did today for you, Louis." Thinking of the dead principal made Edward furious again and the demons ignite themselves in his mind. "Stop rejecting me."

Louis' breath hitches in his throat and he allows Edward the opportunity to rest their foreheads together. He keeps inhaling the strong cologne that fills his senses and mind, more soothed by it now than panicked.

He feels like his insides have been shot dead, his heart paralysed by hearing this from a man who never really showed emotion. They have known each other for a little over a couple _days_ and yet he has this phenomenal occasion to document in that name. 

"What are you saying?" He wants to know the bottom-line, the finer details and the intentions. 

Edward's hands are over Louis' on his front, fingers sliding between the boy's but not holding on just yet. "You are......gorgeous, sweetlips, and I'd like to have you."

Louis starts to shake his head, another rejection, not because he wants to say no but because today isn't the day to ask him. His brain is foggy and rationale destroyed way past being useful. He feels broken and wanton with exhaustion, all the hurt and deep emotions leaving his system laden with misery. An escape is all he wants for today, from today.

"Edward, I-" He gets stuck for excuses, trying to swallow when his hands are captive but _he can't_ sacrifice the taste he'll experience and another crumple bound for destruction. "Please, I can't. Today-"

"I know." Edward nods in agreement, pressing his cheek with more strength in his thumb. "Don't answer me today."

Louis chokes when Edward scrapes his cheekbone and the spark of pain causes a reflex. His lips are wet and Edward is staring at them, starved of them all his life when they're right here in front of him. _He can have them._

"Just kiss me." Is all he requests, trying for gentleman in his exterior that's covered in tattoos and piercings. 

Before Louis can blush, a pair of soft lips touch his. He first tries sinking into the wall further but Edward is adamant on getting this kiss and holds onto his sides. Everything that's in pain about Louis fades away for the time of their connection, Edward rubbing off peace and the taste of something that's forbidden onto Louis' lips. He tastes like nicotine and vanilla, a combination that leaves Louis spellbound.

Edward's hand cups his cheek, lips working against Louis' to pry the barrier apart. His actions are urgent and needy, concentrated frown upon his features. Louis whimpers and can't back away anymore than he already has, choosing to surrender to the intoxicant destined to end his reign of fear. Edward doesn't humble himself with the victory of Louis' mouth opening up, and licks into the boy's mouth to quench a hunger. 

Louis' head is held back and Edward is bending to be closer to him but none of the strain seems to matter. What was harboured under Louis' tongue was stolen from him, a skilled rogue scooping up the taste for him. The urgency behind their kiss is so dire that Edward doesn't care for neatness, but Louis can bet all his worth that the other male is holding back so much of himself.

Teeth clash and Edward's tongue dominates Louis' mouth from the start, the saliva there before as a problem being swept away. It almost disgusted Louis to think that Edward wanted anything from him, starting with his saliva. He was awe struck at the same time because having someone want him that much left him bare in his most sensitive areas.

Edward could feel that Louis was extremely shy when it came to kissing and no amount of coaxing could get him to respond so soon. He sucked on the boy's bottom lip until it was swollen and felt saliva creep onto their cheeks from how closely pressed together they were, Louis' hands now fisting the front of his shirt.

Pulling away was difficult but resisting the need to lean back in was pure, untainted cruelty. Edward pressed his lips to Louis' forehead, not in a kiss but to just keep them there, while no other part of him touched the boy. His arms were limp at his sides because despite his nature, he knew exactly how much physical contact would be too much for Louis.

"Why did you do that?" Louis asked. He needed to know now if something was expected of his lowly self.

Edward bowed his head as well, their breathing rates matched. "I told you already, sweetlips. I want you."

"B-But what for?" The smaller of the two, in age and size, was nervous and fretting all over again. 

"Hopefully not to chase around seaside restaurants often." Edward lightly jokes, dimples deepening. "I want _you_. What else could it be for except a relationship."

Louis almost keels over. "A _relationship_?"

"Yes."

"W-With me?"

"Yes, sweetlips."

The proposition is mighty overwhelmed and Louis wonders if he's supposed to feel this light-headed upon the experience of being asked into his first relationship. He pencils his battling symptoms down to being stubborn about today's matters. It's absolutely preposterous that he is allowing himself to make such choices after today has been the day that it has.

Louis is ill-equipped to handle anything of significance on this day and sighs when he thinks about it as such. His head thumps along to the thick, quickening beat of his heart. He has an ache in the dip of his spine and has never before felt this tired. Already, his eyelids are threatening to close. The trauma of a day like this and the memories of what led up to it, cripple him. 

"I-I- Please, not today." Louis i's shaking his head for mild emphasis and retracting his hands from Edward's chest.

"I said you told have to a decide today, sweetlips." Edward chuckles like Louis' soul twisting itself up into knots is humorous. He thumbs at the fidgety boy's cheekbone with small strokes. "Come to me when you know the answer."

  
* * * * *  


Louis comes home, usually after everyone else does, but today he's got the house to himself after Edward dropped him off. The other was polite enough to open his door for him but was in some kind of hurry and didn't make it all the way to Louis' porch.

He sagged against the door experiencing a gravitational pull of mixed emotions welling up in his chest and twisting his gut. The blissful ones made him smile until his cheeks hurt, his fingertips reach up to touch his lips where Edward's were. Call him smitten or crazy, but nothing can ruin his day now.

His inability to process and overcome what has happened today with the now dead principal is not foreign to him. The numbness he experiences whenever he tries to think about it is so reassuring that he won't spend more than milliseconds at a time pondering over it.

Humming for the first time to an imaginary tune, Louis goes into their tiny kitchen that always smells of peanut butter and grabs a hand towel. In the middle of tearing one sheet off he pauses and thinks about why he wanted it in the first place. For two days now he's been wiping his lips rather than downing anything, yet now he can only taste the tingles left behind by Edward's mouth. 

He puts the paper towel back and grabs a bowl for his supper of cereal.

  
* * * * *  


Edward doesn't even have the front door to their mansion shut completely before his youngest brother pounces.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Marcel roars in his face, the anger dripping from him in radiant waves. He has that familiar vein in his neck sticking out and his eyes are narrowed enough to be fascinating.

All his life Edward explained himself to no one, but he'd change that fact today for the sake of indulging his sibling's wrath. "I went on a loosely termed 'date' with someone I wanted to. Problem?"

"Let it go, Marcel." Harry commented as he walked up and came to a stop in the grand foyer, arms crossed and looking as miffed as Marcel. "Louis won't stand his company for long."

Another fun fact about his life, he has developed a condition that disallows him to feel anything when his brothers pass snide remarks about him. They sometimes hated him and that showed. Edward gave Harry a glare but stayed quiet, stepping around Marcel with a shove to get past.

"Fuck both of you!" Marcel was still raving like a lunatic when Edward went into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. "I saw him first."

"Louis isn't an object." Harry chastises and sits down at the counter with a tired frown creasing the contours of their face. "Nobody gets to call dibs."

"How was your appointment?" Edward heard himself asking Harry, meeting the other's eye and his expression sobering until he felt sick. "Harry, you have to at least consider-"

"I'm not talking about this." His stool scraped the floor and he stormed off without anything more said.

  
* * * * *  


As soon as he heard his father's car pulling into the driveway, Louis bolted up the stares after abandoning his mission of fetching an Oreo and slams his bedroom door shut like that alone will keep the monsters out. 

He listened to his step mother's obnoxious voice melt into laughter at something his father must have said, doodling images of city blocks and curly hair at the edge of his page. Chemistry homework turned out to be an easy task when he wanted to distract himself from the outside world, which targeted his focus on the task. 

Not having a phone was a bummer, though. He would have liked to have a means of communicating with his friends after school for conversational purposes and entertainment. Unfortunately, that's all he can pray for now that he's done with his work and preparing to take a shower.

Out in the hallway, Louis nearly runs into his overworked father and stammers through a soft greeting. "H-Hey, Dad."

Mark has his work uniform still on and has lost all the hair in the centre expanse of his head. He smiles with burdened eyes and unspoken genuine joy to see his son. They haven't been in each other's company and are both in desperate need of the bonding time.

"Hey, Louis." His father ignores the shuffle of Louis' feet, wanting to gather as much as he can from this interaction before he can't anymore. "How....- How was school?"

"School was fun." Louis returns his enthusiasm. He misses his father. "How was work for you?"

"Same ol'." Mark shrugs and runs his hand over his bald head. "You know? Paperwork and the like."

"That's um- awful." Louis tries. "I hope they give you a raise."

"You and me both, son." Mark looks like he wants a hug but nobody asks for it and neither offers. "Well, goodnight."

"Night, Dad."

**_[A/N: *insert jazz hands* - S xx]_ **


	5. FIVE

**_[A/N: This story gives us all heart problems. It takes me days to get a chapter done because of thrice as many feels. Listened to State of Grace by Miss Swift, a truly under-appreciated song. - S xx]_ **

The second school bell of the day rang to declare Louis' Physics class over after an hour of trying to comprehend projectile motion. He's finally got it down to a snap of his pencil and that's an art all on its own. Packing up the books and stationery he won't need for his walk towards English, Louis starts to dread the upcoming lesson. 

It's not that he resents Harry as a classmate in this subject but he's _seeing Edward_ and that's going to put a damper on Harry's attempts to impress him as well. Louis likes Edward though, enough to withstand that awkwardness for their weird budding relationship. 

For only a moment in the hallway walking towards the exit to this block, Louis feels particularly unburdened and as it escalates he smiles to himself. It happened to be the moment he past the principal's office that was now scrubbed top to bottom and ready to be preoccupied. Louis can still see the blood splattered on the frosted glass door and scratch marks on the oak table. All these attributes make him nothing short of _relieved_ and he isn't ashamed of it.

So many nameless faces he passes on the way to English, for the first time in a long time he finds himself not feeling like they all have the potential to squash him. Instead of that horror he is nurturing a refined confidence, making himself feel like he definitely has some strength too. 

In the English classroom he takes his jacket with him rather than hanging it at the door and walks over to a single lonely desk by the window. They're gaping and allowing him a spectacular view of their home football field that Louis has no interest in. He crosses his ankles under his chair and takes out a pencil, benefiting from the small distraction now that Harry isn't present yet.

That lasts all but four minutes before the chair beside Louis is taken up by the broad, toned and fit body of someone desirable to anyone. On the outside those arms and abs were the epitome of attractiveness but on the inside, Harry had many secrets to behold.

"Are you going to pretend like I don't exist, kitten?" 

Louis stops tapping his pencil to stare, scandalized, back at Harry. The other had on his signature skinny jeans that caused lack of blood flow through his veins, a deep red dress shirt that was undone down to the third button and left all his ominous tattoos on display. The shirt was long-sleeved but Harry had pushed them up to his elbows, revealing the scrapbook state of his forearms. Louis finally had to meet his eye again and found those piercing green eyes pulsing with animation, no emotion behind that blank mask.

"W-What?" Louis doesn't know how else to stall three seconds as he straightens his posture and tries to avert his gaze.

Harry isn't in the mood to take crap. He rakes his hand through his hair and his fist balls up when it reaches his desk again. "Don't fuck with me now, Louis."

Traditionally and is always true with Louis, he frowns in confusion and shock at Harry's outburst. "What did I do? I-I don't understand."

"You know that answer, kitten." Harry didn't lower his voice by a single octave when the teacher walked in and flipped off the lights. 

Louis could see those two deep gems glaring at him, burning right through him. He bows his head to hide his face and stares intently at the way his fingers and wrung together.

"Look at me." Harry is leaning across the distance between their desks, four fingers curled gently around Louis' elbow and his subtle cologne washing away the scent of dry air. Louis raises his head to meet Harry's eye in trepidation. "Edward is going to come see you after school, except you won't be here to meet him."

Louis can't decipher the mysterious glint and trimming of Harry's meaning behind this. He looks back at the two orbs that are actively having a go at burying themselves in a little cove in his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

First, there was the thrill of possibly seeing Edward again that got his lips to turn up just slightly. Upon hearing the latter portion of the sentence, his hope becomes riddled with improbability. Harry doesn't _want_ him to see Edward this afternoon because of reasons that are unspoken, but Louis can guess them well enough. Even more so does the chance of Edward getting _angry_ terrify him.

"I-I-" He internally scolds himself for stuttering so much that it's become a liability. "If your brother is coming, I have to be here."

"No." Harry shakes his head and withdraws, a last exhale left to graze the goosebumps on Louis' neck. "You will be coming somewhere with me after school."

Louis opens his mouth once again hoping that a sound argument will come to him in the form of words. Unfortunately it doesn't and he closes it again, feeling deflated. He can't be with Harry, seen or not seen, when he's make a promise to his older brother. What twisted sense of hypocrisy is that? Louis won't do it.

He knows there will be no arguing with the Styles triplets, irrespective of which one it is. Thinking ahead, Louis sighs tiredly and decides his only other option will be to make sure Harry doesn't see him after school. If he manages to completely avoid the scarier male, he could get home with Liam and Niall. 

Their teacher is saying that they'll be spending their two-hour lesson watching _Hamlet_ as a DVD from a recent play production. Everyone takes their chairs to the front but Louis merely sticks to the isle he's in, taking up residence beside his desk. Harry doesn't move an inch from his own table and Louis doubts he even knows what they're doing.

Harry looks so harmless and less frightening when he's contemplating, lip bitten and pencil scribbling miscellaneous nonsense on his notebook. He knows Louis is watching him and makes a gradual curve to the left side of his mouth, his smirk becoming swoon-worthy.

"You won't be able to hide from me, kitten." Harry tells him like he possesses a direct link to Louis' thoughts. 

A peek through a sideward glance has Louis tensing up and hastily returning to the rolling film at the front. The darkness camouflages his blush. He hears a chuckle from the one alongside his seat and cannot hold back on his own muted giggle.

The movie rolls on for half an hour more before either of them seated next to one another makes a move. Harry has been nonchalantly digging deep, dark tally markings onto a worksheet while Louis tries to decipher every word leaving the actors' mouths. He either looks at the screen or at his lap; crossing and uncrossing his legs before it got too tiresome and he peeled his shoes off before crossing them on his chair.

To his right, Harry is watching every move he made with intense desire in his gaze. Louis was so _small_ when he curled up on himself like that, making himself _fit_ onto that seat that most others can't make it to be comfortable on. Harry wants to shove his desk away and wrap Louis up in his arms where he's going to be ultimately contented.

"What's going through your mind, kitten?" Harry leans across to be closer to the boy, smirking at the sight of visible goosebumps appearing when his warm breath wafting over Louis' supple skin below his ear.

Louis' blush becomes nearly visible as the screen turns pale and reflects off his skin, making the pink tint noticeable. Harry is still taller than Louis in their seated state, and he could reach his arm out to grip the edge of the boy's chair. 

A squeak left Louis' lips when he felt a sudden shift beneath him. He nearly made a ruckus with dropping his feet to the ground and grasping the corners of his chair in abrupt necessity. Harry is laughing when a few heads turn to judge them, but Louis is trying not to melt into the floor because of their harsh scowls. 

Another tug with Harry's mighty strength gets Louis' chair to be dragged just a small space closer to him. Louis is all but sharing accommodation with Harry now, his chair and the other male's desk pressed up together. He can smell Harry's cologne and see the silver pendant of his chain. The teacher doesn't care much for them at this point but Louis is concerned about how fast his heart is beating.

"What are d-doing?" He asks the culprit who now draped his arm across the back of Louis' chair.

Harry looks at him, amusement glistening in his eye and the twinkle fighting the darkness of the room. Louis actually cannot find a fault in the Styles facial structure, making his work learning to treat them normally nearly impossible. They never seemed to _just look_ at him or have a simple smile, forever being something that Louis cannot handle. 

"I fortunately enjoy your company more than this fuckin' movie." Harry drums his fingers on the hard plastic of Louis' chair, hard muscle touching the boy's back. 

Louis stays quiet and rests his chin on his knee, hugging his legs to his chest to be wrapped up in himself and secure. The drama plays on and at some point he must have gotten so lost in it that he didn't get the chance to notice Harry watching him the entire time.

  
* * * * *  


"Are you going to eat that?" Niall stood with Louis in the cafeteria line again, occupying the blank space Liam left by being absent. 

"What?" Louis had no idea what his best friend was talking about, and looked down at his own tray in scrutiny of it.

"The fruit salad." Niall thought something fishy was up when he noticed not only Louis' burger but a pre-packaged fruit salad on his tray. "What's up with that, Lou?"

"What's up with a fruit salad?" Louis asks again with confusion causing his frown, waiting to pay for his food.

Niall gave up easily on things and leaned into Louis' side when his weight became too much. Louis smiled an untainted smile and turned to peck Niall's temple like a child, comforting the one between them who didn't need it. He tapped his foot when impatience led to it, biting his lip as he scanned the entire cafeteria and came across one other familiar face.

Harry was not eating but stood at the far wall beside the largest exit, demarcating it as the smoking zone as he housed a cigarette between his fingers and a bottle of water in the other. Louis met his eye swiftly and Harry's lips curved upward on one side, a wave of two fingers pairing a smirk.

Niall guffaws in Louis' ear, shocking him out of his communication with Harry. "Look who's finally getting out there."

Louis rolls his eyes, the most confident thing he can do even with a person he's known for most of his life. "It's nothing, Ni."

"You can't be thinking that you can fool me, Tomlinson." Niall scoffs at the ridiculous concept and offers up cash to the lady behind the register. "By the way, I approve."

Before Louis can let any words out to respond to Niall's indiscreet wink, a hand touches his forearm. It encircles the whole width and Niall's eyes shift from Louis' face to whoever the stranger is behind him, something bemused coming over him afterwards. Louis turns around with shivers resonating down his spine to see Marcel trying to suppress one of his beautiful grins.

"Hey, Lou." The youngest triplet greets him, hand sliding off Louis' forearm and leaving it feeling cold. He secures the strap of his bag on his shoulder, lightest green eyes stealing Louis' breath in tiny gasps. "I haven't seen you all day."

Louis hears Niall snort behind him and wants to pinch his best friend for the commentary. He settles for trying to answer his newest companion. "U-Um..I don't know w-why."

Marcel chuckles at him, a dimple adding charm to the gravely sound. He gets into the queue by cutting but nobody seems to pay attention to that. "I wasn't blaming you, love. We've got Chemistry together."

Louis nods because he thinks that's the appropriate response. His eyes happen to scan over the crowds in a fleeting act to salvage his sanity and he notices that Harry is no longer occupying a spot parallel to the wall. 

He watches Marcel grab a container of chicken and cheese pasta with a flavoured water bottle, not needing a tray with his large paws to do the job. A sinner in Louis would think those hands would be wonderful to hold.

"I-I look forward to it." He nearly pouts at how breathless and high-pitched his voice came out because he was trying to keep the conversation alive.

Marcel is smiling brightly down at his future purchases, briefly catching Louis' eye and winking. Louis' jaw loosens and drops a little because _Marcel winked at him_ ; it certainly means a different thing than Niall's sporty winks. 

"Me too." Marcel replies, a levelled tone and soft laughter under his breath. 

Niall steals Louis' attention away once the processions of the queue are done with, snatching his friend's hand and dragging him away on purpose. Marcel doesn't like to see him go and is torn by the way he's frowning deeply at the situation, remaining silent as he paid for the food he no longer wanted to eat.

"Talk to me." Niall sits Louis down and cracks open his fruit salad container for him, pressing a fork into his hand to get him going. "Why do you have more suitors than a princess?"

Louis is appalled by Niall's loose analogy but it's flattering also. His situation was well beyond complicated and has amassed many a struggle but he's never felt braver in saying something in his life, thanks to three very different individuals with the same effect on him. "Because I'm the Queen."

  
* * * * *  


Lunch time reached its end and Louis dumped his wastage into the nearest recycling bin. Niall cares little for the environmental standards and drops the contents of his tray down the rubbish shoot, leaving the after school caretakers too handle the sorting. 

"I have French now." Niall says as they push open the double doors, Louis succeeding a moment after him because it was indeed heavy. "What about you?"

"Um-" Louis is pretty sure he has the schedule memorised but whenever someone had to ask him, he found himself double-checking with a physical copy. "Math and then Biology before a free lesson. C-Chemistry and gym after that."

Niall is an observant person and waggled his eyebrows at the mention of the subject Louis shares with Marcel. He hasn't gotten much information out of his mate about the notorious triplets yet and has nothing to run on but fumes. 

"I'll see you after school then? We'll walk home together." Niall proposes as they arrive at Louis' locker through the hassle and bustle of their hallways.

Louis is chewing his upper lip as he stews over the plot in the back of his mind. Harry's been enforcing his plan to swoop in and snatch Louis up all day now, and then there's the hearsay promise of Edward showing up after school. He's in a deep pickle and Louis wants to dig himself out by escaping the property with Niall as his accomplice.

"Okay." He nods and whispers, only guilty enough to feel like his chest constricts around his heart to squeeze the very life it carries in its veins out.

Louis' Math class is not brimming with students who want the highest possible scores at the end of the year. Most of them were forced here and others were intelligent yet uncaring. He despised the latter more than the former because people like him had to work harder than is good for them, to get here. What gives them the right to throw the beauty of natural intellect away?

During his lesson on maxima and minima, Louis sits upright and taps his pencil on the side of his desk non-stop. The silence of the youngsters around him is throttling him, an environment that isn't conducive to learning for him. There must be _sound_.

Nonetheless, he soldiers on and comes out alive with worksheets of homework. Biology includes prep work for their upcoming genetics practical before being dismissed. Louis is dragging his bag, feet and brain everywhere he goes after that. At the door to their Chemistry lab, he takes a deep nervous breath and pushed it open.

Their tables are set up with chemicals and beakers so they are probably doing a practical spot test. He looks around the room and finds Marcel frowning at one of the vials, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up the perch on his nose. Louis shuffles forward and inches his way around the tall desk, where he dumps his bag and books before lifting himself up onto the stool.

Marcel hasn't looked at him yet and Louis grows increasingly insecure as the seconds tick on. The Styles besides him has a crisp white T-shirt on, which was not on in the cafeteria so he probably took his button-up off. The thin cotton clung to every indent or curve of Marcel's muscle structure, something that finally became clear when he wasn't hiding it all. Louis thought he saw traces of tattoos on Marcel's back when he walked around him but was too shy to look again.

"Hey." Marcel says something at last, setting the vial down to turn towards Louis.

It almost scares the boy to notice that without physical contact he fits between Marcel knees, almost a torment as he can never stand up and hold onto someone who won't hold back. 

"H-Hi." He responds lamely, sniffling and setting his elbows on the table surface. 

"Did you see this?" Marcel is handing him one copy of a printed page, long fingers fanned out over the top to slide it to him. "We're making esters."

"Oh." Louis has to tug on it lightly for Marcel to let go. "I think that's a little easy."

"Yeah." The other agrees, scratching the back of his neck. "So how was your day?"

Louis wants to giggle at how domestic the question is, a small glimmer of light illuminating the depths of his demons. "Fine, I-I guess. Not really exciting."

Marcel hums as he listens quietly, plump lips bitten until they turned red. "I guess that's what school is for."

He does giggle at that, diverting his gaze when he catches Marcel observing how that sound leaves him in sheer magic. "How was yours?"

"Tedious as always." Marcel replies with a sag from his shoulders. "This week has just begun and I wish it were over already."

"Why?" Louis hears himself asking, something that is completely beside his normal persona. 

Marcel regards him silently for a moment before deciding something in his mind. "I believe I heard that my brother already has your hand."

Louis turns frozen and nearly suffers loss of balance on his seat, fishmouthing out of incompetence to answer the question. "I-I- Marcel, it isn't....so official."

A scoff of indifference is what response he gets. "Could have told me anyway."

Louis feels horrified that he's been put in the blame for this and wants it all to just _stop_. He doesn't want Marcel to take him for someone manipulative and uncaring when he tries his utmost best to be the opposite. What if the youngest triplet is bound to soon start thinking that Louis isn't good enough for Edward? He hasn't been behaving inappropriately around anyone else but Louis still feels his cheeks flush and heart pound from guilt. 

"I'm sorry." Louis hangs his head low in shame and withdraws from the workstation. 

"Where are you going?" Marcel firmly grabs onto Louis' wrist when the boy bends down to gather up his belongings. "What are you doing?"

Louis looks from left to right, feeling cornered once again in a situation he doesn't want to be in. He shakes his head to say that what he's doing is _fine_ and takes his hand back. 

"Louis." Marcel's voice had lowered to nearly a growl. "I asked you a question."

Something had to have triggered this tone in Marcel's voice that crept like a serpent into his words, lacing their edges with a certain _spice_. Louis met Marcel's eye with more than just nerves and bit his lip with a vengeance, afraid of the pure _dominance_ that projected from the least intimidating Styles brother.

Who the Hell would have thought the youngest had it in him to be scary?

He felt his skin prickle with electricity, elicited by the timbre of Marcel's gruff voice. Louis swallowed thickly, no longer allowing his throat to close up around a slippery lump that left behind tracks of slime and filth. His fingers twitched as he dared to sneak a peek at his lab partner.

"You aren't going anywhere." Marcel spoke the worldly truth and that was it, all of mankind stopped to listen. He looked at Louis with a soft glow in his eyes. "Sit back down here, Lou."

He isn't given any choice, just a command that Louis finds himself obliging to without thought. Slowly he's back in his seat, a few inches away from Marcel than when he started out. The male beside him makes no move to change that and they both face forward, caught in the same storm with no raft.

"Louis, I-" Marcel sighs after a couple minutes, the creases on his forehead lightening as he glances back at the boy. "I apologise. I'm not like that."

Louis releases a breath of relief on his own and would slouch in his chair if it weren't a stool. He smiles forgivingly with a tiny shrug. "It-It's okay."

"It really isn't." Marcel protests against his favour, earnestly studying any shift in Louis' stunned expression. "I should never speak to you that way, irrespective of how mad I am."

"What are you....mad about?" Louis tentatively asks, hesitant to hear the actual answer. 

Marcel's eyes remain possessed by Louis' for a while as he tries to formulate a response, their elbows brushing by a chance that they both realise. "Don't worry about it. Let's get this done before we run out of time."

Chemistry drags itself to the ending bell and Louis thinks there must be some issue with the electricity that nobody has been informed about. He takes longer than usual to dot his i's and cross his t's just so that there won't be an awkward space of time when Marcel and he are left to stew silently. He's unaware of what happened between them when Marcel actually seemed to be _angry_ about something secretive, but Louis knows he should allow him the space.

"Hand in your papers and you can leave." The teacher announces in the middle of the classroom. 

Louis doesn't get another word from Marcel so he mumbles a farewell greeting before getting as far away as possible. Marcel watches every move he makes, walking up to the teacher's desk and dropping the paper onto a stack. Louis' index finger sat on the edge while the others supported the light weight of the page, such time and effort taken for a so small a task. 

Marcel internally beats himself up over being a jerk to this magical person, kicking his stool over when he gets up to leave. All those eyes follow him out the door, except _the one set of blue eyes_ he actually wants.

  
* * * * *  


Louis' trip to gym and his swapping of clothing to sweats and an ill-fitted T-shirt were the only positive components of the entire aspect. He laced his shoelaces and attached his combination lock back onto his locker and folded the cuffs of his joggers. Even with minimal exposure to his pasty, dry skin he felt too self-conscious to not fret over every person that turned his way.

His body isn't something he's proud of but upon being asked, he'd proclaim that he'd never exchange it for another. However pudgey, short or fragile he was carved, it was carved _for him_.

They were playing football outside today and Louis tried to smother his excitement as much as possible. He's had a passion for good ol' footie for nearly all his life and every opportunity to play was a privilege. The coach separates them into two teams and the captains hand out positions. Louis is known for being a decent player but not midfielder-worthy so he becomes a striker.

The game goes on for twenty minutes with not a single goal scored for the opposition, Louis' team in the lead as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. He keeps backing away from people who want to congratulate him on his skill and they'd end up judging just how insane he may be.

At the finishing line of it all, he is good and exhausted from being on his feet for this long actively chasing after things. The sport gave him freedom of thought, wind in his hair and through his fingers. It's the most spirited and simple he's felt all day. 

However, the time for showering and leaving comes up and he shrivels up back into his shell of insecurities. He sits on the bleachers outside picking at nothing on his clothed knee whilst everyone else finishes up, hoping to only go in when they're all done. The last thing he needs today is someone poking fun at his form. 

The breeze outside is of typical earthy origin, smelling of freshly cut grass and a bit like the sea. Louis could close his eyes and imagine a million different scenarios to escape his current one, but it makes his heart swell to think there's one more reason to stay in the present. That reason was one particular person who took Louis out to a seaside restaurant and broke every emotional barrier he had with persistent, desperate words. 

"Could you be waiting for someone, kitten?" A voice broke Louis' thoughts and has him shooting upright where he lay on his back.

He is met with the sight of Harry smiling, smug and full of mischief as he pushes his hair back with one hand. In his other hand is his car keys and jacket. Where he stood was at the base of the bleachers structure, two rows away from Louis. 

"N-No." Louis shook his head and knocked his knees together to keep them closed.

Harry gets closer to him without dilemma. He steps onto the lower platform then the higher, his six plus feet height giving him ample advantage. "We have a date, don't we? I must say I've never gone on one before but you've truly raised the standards with those clothes."

Louis frowns and looks down at what he's wearing, which was definitely not outing worthy. "I-It's not a- Were you being sarcastic?"

All Harry does and chuckle to himself and extend his arm out towards Louis, wanting to touch some part of him. "You could be beautiful in everything from nothing to having it all."

Staring at the open hand waiting for his to join it, Louis fights the cartwheeling subconscience he has that's so _honoured_ to have heard something so sweet. "Y-You can't say that, Harry."

Harry's eyebrow quirks. "Why not, kitten?"

The afternoon is dull and nearly dark by now, the sunset turning a piercing orange on the horizon behind and between them. Harry's arm remains outstretched towards the boy he desires more than anything to accept, Louis on the other end delicately unfurling like a blooming flower on the first day of spring.

"The sky is blue." Harry continues, making no sense at first. "My hand is facing North. The sun will eventually burn itself out. These are all facts and I can say them. You are beautiful, kitten."

  
* * * * *  


Edward was bordering on _fidgety_ and it was killing him. He has approximately two seconds before he's on the school property and can go in search of Louis. Locating the boy - his boy? - is top priority for today because Edward has plans and a revelation to make. 

Most of the attending students are gone home for the day already when Edward parks his SUV in the closest spot to the main entrance. He locks it with an orange flickering light after hopping down and dumps his keys into one of his coat pockets. Few people glance his way and others were long past staring, now telling others to do the same as he takes the steps three at a time into the first block. Everyone wants to know who he's here for.

The hallways are deserted and Edward already knows where Louis' locker is but nobody is around that vicinity. He moves on to remembering the classes Louis has at the end of the day and makes his way out of the building to the football field behind it. The grounds are empty and so are the bleachers, leading him to search through the showers. It's already been locked up for the night.

Before Edward can turn red in the face, fuming from the depths of his being, Marcel makes himself known from the double doors he just exited. "I was looking for him too."

Edward didn't turn around, shoulders permanently hunched and fists balled up in his pockets. His jaw twitched with how hard he bit down on nothing. "Where _is he_?"

Marcel has his books hooked into his curled fingers, bag on his shoulder. "I don't know."

At that, Edward did spin around and shoot his younger sibling a paralysing glare that could cripple a saint. "I am going to kill our brother today."

The threat amuses Marcel, rendering a soft bout of laughter from him as he leans against the brick wall. "That's under the condition he returns today."

Edward narrows his eyes at the mirror image of himself minus the scars, tightening his grip around his keys until the sharpness almost cut his skin. "I suggest you don't say things like that or you'll be following in his footsteps."

**_[A/N: Y'all don't be mean to Marcel. Buckle up, this rollercoaster is about to take a dive. - S xx]_ **


	6. SIX

**_[A/N: I'm terribly fond of this story and have a strong feeling it isn't going to end well. - S xx]_ **

Louis had to hold onto Harry's hand or else suffer a loss of balance, and tumble to the ground from the stout fence he walked on unsteadily. They've come to somewhere far enough out of town that nature itself ruled these parts, a short concrete wall closing off an abandoned gas station. Even it was covered in moss and ferns, displaying the degradation of its settlement.

Harry hadn't asked for his companion to get up on the fence's wide enough width and step one foot in front of the other to follow at his side. Louis took it upon himself because a lot of the crystalline lake and rustling trees could be seen from up there. Alas, his centre of gravity rocked him shakily and after twice nearly slipping off he had his fingers threaded Harry's for the rest of the trek.

"Are you happy up there, kitten?" Harry's thumb insisted on driving shivers up Louis' spine as its calloused texture rubbed infinitely over his soft knuckles. 

Louis looked down at him with heat rising to his cheeks, the faintest shade of pink embarrassing him. He almost retracted his hand but Harry held on tighter and kept walking, giving Louis no choice. The boy bit his lip to suppress the _tiniest_ of smiles.

They've come to the end of the wall and Louis needs to hop down. Unfortunately, it seems that the fence may have grown a few inches and rendered it difficult for Louis to do so. He chews on his swollen, red lip with a whimper on his tongue as he worriedly glanced back at where he'd come from. Maybe he'd have to go back. 

"Oh kitten." Harry is chuckling and moving to the edge, hands grasping Louis' waist well above his hips and lifting him off the wall. 

Louis squirmed from being touched and held the way Harry held him, fingers digging into the other's shoulders with fear and contempt gleaming through the bluest shade of his eyes. He looks at Harry this way when he isn't put down immediately, heat pressing into his chest from where it's flush against Harry's. His feet are still off the ground and his fringe has partially cloaked his vision, leaving him to feel like a damsel.

"It's okay to be happy with me, kitten." Harry says cryptically, a special look in his eye adding to its twinkle. 

Harry revels in the feeling of Louis, so soft and warm, against him for this long anyway. He can see Louis' struggle blatantly and it _hurts_ because nobody's allowed to touch Louis this way besides one person. Only Edward can.

He puts Louis down and the squirming stops, dainty palms going first to pull his shirt down and fix his glasses. Harry feels selfish in that second and captures Louis' right hand for himself, if he can't have anything else of the lovely boy. Louis' fingers remain stiff in his hold.

"You haven't said a word to me yet, kitten." Harry observes, stepping on leaves and over a lost log by Louis' side. "I didn't kidnap you to be ignored."

Louis sniffles close to Harry's shoulder where he clung near to. "Wh-Where are we g-going?"

Harry supposes that's as good a thing as he'll get from Louis. "Somewhere far away."

"Oh." Louis' fingers twitch and he trips on a vine, sending him an inch closer to Harry. 

"Would you like to ask me something else, kitten?" Harry held a large branch out of Louis' way. 

Louis briefly looked his way. "W- _Why_ are we going f-far away?"

Harry resists any and all urges to scoop this wondrous boy up, protect him from the world and despise his own brother from getting him first. "People don't know about places far away, kitten. They can't find us where they've never been."

Louis' fingers curl up around Harry's palm and it's the greatest satisfaction the latter's ever experienced. He steps up onto the largest boulder they've seen together and helps Louis up as well, seating the boy beside him on the cold rock. They could see the lake from here as well as the mountain range behind him, evidence of how little their town is. The water shimmered under the sun's light, however the trees protected these two intruders from any radiance.

He opened his mouth to speak but upon seeing Louis' awed expression, half hidden behind his knees, Harry silenced any words. Louis was balled up on himself, watching everything with questioning and excited bright eyes. A place so untouched shouldn't exist on a planet so fickle.

"Do you like it, kitten?" Harry had to know. It was killing him to remain in suspended silence.

Louis gave out the most vibrant energy when he responded, a broader than usual smile on his lips and fervent nod of his head. "I-It's beautiful. I l-love it here."

Harry felt his chest tighten at the sweetest high pitch of Louis' voice. "I'm glad, kitten. I was beginning to think I'd never share this with someone."

Louis lowers his knees and crosses his legs, hands cupped over his shins. "I-Is it a secret?"

"Yes." Harry looks at Louis not turning away when their eyes meet, and it's a whole new twisted taste of bravery. Molten green cascaded over ocean blue and embraced it, keeping safe the most precious jewel in all the worlds. "Will you keep my secret?"

Louis blushed and wrung his hands together for a reason to look away. "I w-will."

Noise in the background of their haven disturbed them and Louis was scared into a position almost entirely on Harry's lap. He _did_ render the man speechless by grabbing his hand but nothing more, their bodies barely touching. Harry couldn't care for the scariest beast as he stared down at their hands joined, Louis' _smaller_ fist fitting into Harry's.

Human voices however did break his trance and Harry cursed as he recognised one of them. His brothers probably found them by spotting Harry's unmarked car on the side of the road, but he'll murder one of them before he let's this day end early.

"Fuck it." Louis panicked when Harry got up and slid off the rock and turn back for him, arms open. "Come on, Lou."

Louis looked heartbreakingly conflicted and it tore Harry's chest open to pour salt on his wounds. He recognised the voice as well, as Edward's and he hasn't seen him all day. "I-I-.....-"

Closer as they ventured, Harry's hope was worn down to a fine thread. He didn't lower his extended arm even when their footsteps were too loud to ignore. His eyes _pleaded_ with Louis.

Pleasantly surprised, Harry felt a hand slip into his and a weight rely on him as it got off the boulder. Louis could only smile weakly up at him and gasp profoundly high in volume when Harry held his cheek firm, kissing his forehead with closed eyes and concentration.

"Come on, kitten." Harry had a smile that reached his eyes, uplifting their darkness with golden flecks and dimples. "We're running away."

Just like that, when Edward and Marcel made it to a spot they'd found their brother guilty of running away to, neither of their targets were present. Edward clenched his jaw with gritted teeth and has never felt so thick a poison of vengeance in his blood as he did then. 

Harry got Louis into the front passenger seat and didn't dare to push any limit by buckling up for him. He pulled himself into the driver's seat and brought the SUV to life ahead of the familiar vehicles behind him. Forgetting the wrath he'd face sooner or later, Harry pulled onto the road and sped down the freeway until the heaviness in his chest lifted. 

When he first got the chance, Harry stole a glimpse of Louis beside him. The boy was quietly watching the scenery fly by with fidgeting fingers in his lap, so Harry slowed down to make the fleeting images more clear. He heard a sigh but not a tired one and something swelled in his chest when Louis' floral Vans were dropped on the floor for the boy to hug his knees. 

"I-....-" Harry didn't entirely think it through when he started to speak, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel when Louis turned to look at him. 

Louis seemed to _know_. He lowered his gaze and picked at the torn knees of his jeans. "Th-Thank you for show-showing me your secret."

Harry saw the first indications of re-entering town and wished he could just turn around again, steal this boy and travel the world with adoration and an empty wallet. 

"H-Harry?" A voice broke his thoughts and fantasies.

"Yes?" Harry failed to sound casual and shamed himself briefly, sniffing for no reason and clearing his throat awkwardly.

"D-Do you think-" Louis swallowed thickly and it hurt, a tiny noise creeping up his throat. "-he-he'll be a-angry with me?"

If it hadn't been for the red light, Harry would have come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street. He heard something like a strangled sob in Louis' voice and it broke each rib of his to listen to. 

"Kitten, no." Harry knows his brother. He may get beaten with a bat until he's blue but Edward will never lay a hand on Louis to harm him. If he tries to, Harry can stay in this world long enough to keep him safe. "Edward won't be mad."

"Y-You promise?" Louis' eyes swam with unshed tears of fear and Harry lost the air in his lungs to a sight so precious.

"Are you afraid of him, kitten?" Harry ignores the blaring hoots from other drivers. 

"N-No but-" Louis blinks and one tear falls from his eye, caught by his finger. "-we j-just left them there."

Harry exhaled nervously and reached over to turn his hand palm up for Louis to accept. Slowly, he did and Louis' fingers were enveloped by Harry's more protective ones. He feels more comfortable with Harry now. 

"You'll be safe, kitten. I promise." Harry leans over without pardon and pressed his lips to Louis' forehead. 

Nails dug into his wrist where Louis sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of it, at once beginning to relax because Harry didn't let up. It's easy to identify what this boy means to him from this simple moment; Harry knows how much he'd sacrifice for him.

Something dawned on Louis' features and it was a frightening sight to behold, his eyes distracted by something behind Harry. He didn't have time to scream although a peep of it did escape him, something bashing in Harry's side window rendering all else mediocre in volume. Louis was partially protected from the spraying shards of glass but Harry's back was not and he hissed in pain after some sharp pieces cut skin.

The air grew too thick and Louis couldn't breathe it in, couldn't contain any amount of horror when the door behind Harry was opened and him yanked out with it. Louis' hand slipped out of Harry's and his eyes followed Harry, paralysed with fear but he saw none of the sort in Harry's gaze.

There was destruction outside as Harry hit the ground with an agonised groan, a sickening crack to be heard from such an impact. He was dragged out by the last face Louis expected to see as he now struggles to get his door opened, Edward's attention rising from the ground to him. Louis' already heavy heart fills with lead, dread festering in his core.

He saw Harry shift and hope pelted the terror. "H-Harry."

That was the last straw drawn for Edward really and he all but steam-rolled to Louis' side to suddenly bring him out as well. The handle gave way and Edward caught Louis by his hips when he tried shuffling away, a new perspective from the demon inside his head scaring Louis into resisting him. Edward pulled him down and out, an arm secured around Louis' back to keep him still. So dark were his eyes, so overcome with something monstrous.

Louis wasn't handled roughly, because not for the life of him would Edward do so, but Edward carried him kicking and screaming to Harry's nearly limp side. Cars raced past them, around them or turned the other way just to avoid the violence taking place in the middle of the street. 

Edward didn't let Louis go near Harry though, restrained him when Louis started to heave for air and his eyes stung from tears. His throat tightened up until Louis couldn't breathe entirely and he couldn't break free from such a steel muscle cage, watching the one who shared a secret with him try to get himself up.

"There's something someone doesn't understand here." Edward's voice shut down everyone else's. He held Louis tightly, firmly. His lips were at Louis' ear. "Be still, sweetlips."

Louis gave up fighting but he had his nails digging into Edward's forearm deep enough for blood to fill underneath them. He watched Harry get up and relief flooded him, happiness following suit. Harry mirrored his brother's monstrous appeal however and as scary as it was, Louis didn't know who was to trust. 

Harry spat blood at the ground and wiped his busted lip with the back of his hand. Edward's chin set itself on Louis' head of feathery brown hair, hands flattening with fanned out fingers over the boy's opposite hips. Louis doesn't know whether to accept it or be revolted by it, two equally terrifying men looming over him.

"You knew I was coming for him after school, brother." Edward had Louis turned around so the boy couldn't see anything of Harry. "Why did you take him from me?"

He had warm, possessive arms around Louis and he nuzzled the softness of Louis' neck before laying a kiss on the skin. Out of them all, Edward had the most right to do so and he was going to take advantage of it as much as he could. Louis let him do it and he wasn't sure why but disagreeing with Edward didn't seem smart. He was still trying to soothe his racing heart and hid in Edward's shoulder with clenched fists around the lapels of his coat.

Harry had no choice but to watch and the raw truth of it was that it ate at him like the most blunt teeth gnawing away on his heart muscle. He got to see Edward rope Louis into his hold and envelope him in the clouded cure of being overbearing. Hearing Louis' soft, muffled noises also did something to him that seemed detrimental to his sanity.

Edward was so fond of Louis that it seemed easily forgiven. He didn't only want the boy for his body, but his laughter and quirks too. Harry just wasn't fast enough to act or he would have had Louis settling into his chest instead of Edward's. 

"I will be fair for my princess here." Edward stated, looking up over Louis' little boy against his towards an infuriated Harry. He didn't stray far. "Did you enjoy your time with my brother, sweetlips?"

It doesn't take longer than the breeze whipping Harry's hair into his eyes for Louis to nod and save a little of his shrivelling soul. Louis even tries speaking on his behalf. "I-I- Don't hurt him, E-Edward."

"No, no. I won't be doing that." Edward calmed Louis' frantic composure with tender touches that should be impossible for a man so abrupt and callous to create. 

But he can and Louis listens. He had so many insecurities and Edward's demons held so much power. 

"I'm taking him home." Edward didn't even look up from Louis' scorching eyes when he told Harry. "Marcel is on the other side of this Jeep. You can go home with him."

Harry doesn't get a say in it or what happens next. He can only watch dumbly as Edward leads Louis away, the only desirable creature on this planet, with clenched fists at his side. The storm brewing unkindly inside his head, a tempest so harsh and sudden, is momentarily caressed into being tame when Louis looks back and weakly offers him a wave. 

The most gutwrenching fact is that all it takes is two seconds for Louis to warm up to Edward, never looking afraid of him when he is most dangerous. Harry raises two fingers in a wave and Louis is gone again.

  
* * * * *  


Emotional and physical exhaustion comes to take its toll on Louis at the day's end. He's on his bed at an explicitly late hour watching his childish night light flicker as it always does, hugging his favourite pillow to his chest and trying to control his thoughts.

It's excitement and suspense and thrill of obscene adventure, the cold touch of repercussions with the punishing taste of inappropriate conduct. He doesn't crave it all at once but each emotion is welling in his narrow chest, brimming in his lungs and amplified by so much energy. 

Louis abandons his homework after it's completed and looks out the window ponderously. He stares at the moon hanging over his room wondering whether it knows the sun exists or not. Everything is silent on his street and in his home except for his heavy breathing or the occasional passing car. 

Today has added burdens to his shoulders and they are hunched forward now, all his worries displayed on them. He curls his toes into the sheets on his bed and pull his extra long T-shirt down a bit more over his bare thighs. There's no way he can fall asleep tonight with so many memories about Harry's face and Edward's arms plaguing his thoughts.

Something hits his window and he jumps out of fright, chest rapidly rising as he stares at the unharmed glass pane. 

Slipping out of bed on noiseless feet, Louis grabs the nearest pair of pants and puts it on for the sake of chastity. He goes to the window and looks out but there's nothing there and he doesn't have a balcony to further inspect any suspicions. Just before he can walk away another sound of the same volume cracks and he remains frozen, staring at the pebble that lands on his windowpane.

Curious to know what it is, Louis opens his window latch and pulls it up before peering outside. Nobody's on the ground and the only sound to hear would be the crickets singing to the night. Louis prepares to draw himself back into the sanctity of his room when a hand is clasped over his mouth and he has his loudest scream yet smothered. 

"Shh." The voice is deep and gravely, familiar to Louis even without a face but lips at his ear. "It's only me, sweetlips."

Identifying Edward doesn't make Louis' heart race any slower and he whimpers in acknowledgement before Edward releases him. One leg swings over the edge before the other, completely invading the safety of Louis' room as he stands to be a foot taller than the owner.

Louis looks up at Edward with nervousness evident in his gaze, the man appearing to be so much broader and dark in these shadows. Edward closes the window and bends down just the slightest to cup Louis' cheek, guiding his own lips to the boy's. Their kiss is delicate and sweet, Louis' taste being precisely innocent and Edward's forbidden.

"Wh-What are you doing h-here?" Louis doesn't know whether he's being rude or not but he is destined to be in large amounts of trouble if they're caught. 

Edward takes Louis' hand in his and pets the boy's side with his free hand, a smirk curling his lips as he let his mouth touch Louis' temple. "I came to see you because I missed you, irrespective of whether you want to see me or not."

Louis didn't hesitate to lean the smallest bit closer. He had a way of asking to be hugged and although it was something he was so near to, heels of his feet off the ground, Louis didn't know whether he'd earned one or not and would so ask permission. Edward knew this way as well and had to let Louis play it out.

His thin, frail fingers would ghost over Edward's inner forearms on both sides as they crept closer to his biceps. They'd never reach there because Louis always hesitated for a few moments before moving up higher. Edward's eyes pinned Louis' to give him synchronised energy and courage, allowing this fascinating boy to bring his arms up around Edward's neck. 

Edward's hands fall from Louis' elbows after guiding him to the correct rest position and he does not hesitate to enclose the boy's waist. Louis was on his tiptoes and hidden in Edward's neck, extra fabric of his shirt bunching up when Edward held onto him with furrowed brows and intense strength. Louis smelt of talcum baby powder and Edward nosed at his throat before relaxing into the embrace.

Louis was so soft, so tender to the touch of a man who hasn't gotten to revel in the delicate side of life. Edward was built on the inside and out to tackle the hardest of challenges. Louis didn't think him to be soft but on the outset one could tell he enjoyed Edward's hugs. He felt secure in them and that's most important to someone like himself.

"Do you see yourself objecting if I volunteered to spend the night?" Edward did not withdraw while he asked. 

With a blush on his cheeks, Louis smiled through the reservations his insecurities presented and shook his head no. He would not object because something in Edward's manner of holding onto him, the look in his eye when he first came in, told Louis that he also wanted nothing more than company.

"M-My bed is a bit um-..small." Louis landed back on the ground and reluctantly gestured to his humble single bed. 

"I don't mind if you don't, sweetlips." Edward refrained from winking or anything suggestive because he didn't want to spook Louis into denying him.

Louis nodded and with a shy smile of modesty, led Edward towards the bed's mattress. Edward went willingly and waited for Louis to crawl onto the contraption first. When the boy was satisfied with being curled up in one corner, smile peeking out behind his knees, Edward kicked off his shoes to join him.

Comfort came easily to them in their unbidden, hidden alcove away from the rest of the world. Edward rested back against the headboard and Louis was tucked in next to him, not quite under his arm but sufficiently close. He was offered some of the covers but Edward declined and let Louis roll himself up. 

"S-So-" Louis freed his hands and looked at Edward expectantly. "-why did you c-come here?"

Edward dropped one arm from the headboard around Louis' shoulders, encouraging him to ease the tension that sat there. The boy took the invitation and relied on his trust in Edward to rest against him. Their sides were pressed together and Louis brought his legs up to his chest. 

"A person can be in a room full of people and still feel alone." Edward felt Louis turn his face into his shoulder. "I don't feel lonely with you, Louis."

By far and wide, the most gorgeous pair of the bluest eyes to ever be conjured peered up with innocent blinks and a scattered blush. Edward wanted Louis tucked away on his lap, safely wound up in his arms but the boy was still fragile and hesitant about such intimacy.

The words he hears from the voice of an angel makes Edward believe with all his heart and soul that one day he'll get to have Louis unrestricted on his lap. "I-I don't feel alone when I'm with you either."

They sit in silence like that for a while, Edward's eyes closing and Louis sighing in content against the former male's side. Louis held onto Edward's shirt with one closed fist, nose buried in the man's shoulder. The flapping of a page once affected in trajectory by Louis' quaint furnishing fan on his study desk makes Edward look upon that section of the room again.

There's a flyer on the wall, a baby blue one with _Hamlet_ printed across the top as a heading. "What might that be, sweetlips?"

At first, Louis is too comfortable to disturb his tranquillity but Edward bumps his temple with a gentle nudge and he alerts himself. "S-Sorry."

"Shh." Edward kissed Louis' forehead and smiled at him through the shadows of the night. "That flyer on the wall."

"Oh-Oh." Louis scratches the tip of his nose and is secretly smiling, a new life lighting himself from within. "D-Do you want to see it?"

Edward had no idea what it is he may be caught into seeing but he won't jeopardise the look of hope his boy is giving him. "Okay."

Louis slips out from under Edward's arm, leaving the man to feel nothing short of cold and incomplete, but tries his footing soft against the thick floor carpet as he extracts the pins and lowers the pamphlet. He looks thrilled with it, reading what's written on it as he conveys it to Edward. When Louis seats himself back down it's across Edward on the bed, holding out the piece of paper with a lip-bitten smile.

It is nothing special beyond being the ordinary pamphlet for a play production of Shakespeare's most dramatic work of literature. Edward reads it through a skim, then again to see if he missed anything the first time. None of the sort is true and when he looks up, Louis is the one to quickly avert his vision.

"Have you been to this?" Edward tries to gauge what Louis' excitement about this paper is, a steady studious frown set on his brow.

Louis giggles and Edward's head snaps up to witness it. The faintest crinkles form at the corners of the boy's sapphire eyes and he hugs his knees once more, feet absentmindedly fitted under Edward's shin.

"I-It hasn't happened yet." Louis whispers, still amusement lay lingering in his gaze. "Look."

He points to a date and time specific on the flyer but Edward isn't looking at it. There's something far more breathtaking to admire when Louis is inches away from his lips, hoping to explain something else innocently while Edward stares intently at how everything about him is angelic. He hasn't seen this much of a glow or life running through this boy as right now.

Louis' nose gets a little scrunched up when he doesn't earn a response from Edward, looking up with his finger still on the paper to see what's gotten his uninvited visitor so distracted. He let's out an audible gasp when he finds their faces mingling close enough for their exhaled air to touch. Before there is shyness, he immediately feels ashamed and falling back on his mattress. 

Edward clears his throat as Louis focuses solely on his bedsheets, hummingbirds and candy printed on them. He decides it may be best not to speak about the awkwardness present, lest he sacrifice the rest of the night.

"Is this a hobby of yours?" He rather asks, getting Louis to look up from his ankles. 

Louis doesn't use his words and merely shakes his head, hiding half his beautiful visage behind his legs.

Edward feels strangled with their silence. "Then why do you have this?"

Blue briefly unites with green across a distance and it feels like fireworks on a silent, dull night. "I-I want to go."

Actually taking the time to read the date, Edward realises that this production is set to be next month. "I would like to take you, if you so desire."

Louis let's his legs slide forward a bit, knees still bent in the air. "You c-can't."

Edward feels Louis' cold as ice feet against his leg. "Why not, sweetlips?"

Louis inches closer to Edward, reaching for the paper but moving beyond it to the base. He points to the ticket price that's well above average pricing, just before scooting back. The chance presents itself to escape Edward's close vicinity but the man himself renders it moot. He grabs Louis' wrist and holds onto it with impenetrable strength, hearing the boy huff and whimper from a sudden tug. 

Edward can't stand to have Louis running away from him constantly even now when they are inadvertently sharing a bed. He ignores Louis' little pleas and resistance until it settles down and he's able to speak.

"The price is irrelevant, sweetlips." Edward releases Louis and in doing so brings him closer with one gentle pull, letting the boy land against his chest with an oomph. He lowers his lips and kisses the place where Louis' eyes crinkle. "I will take you."

Louis shivers in a manner that goes unnoticed, knocked down and relying entirely on Edward not to abandon him. His hands are curled closed on the man's chest, breath hitching as he presses his face into Edward's neck. A hand, large enough to overlap, lands on his waist from an arm that's barricading his waist. 

There's a certain degree of safety and security from being in Edward's lap between his thighs, resting on his crossed legs, that could never come from just holding his hand. Louis feels that and his precious flyer is dropped onto his decrepit nightstand for Edward to fully embrace him. His eyes close on their own accord, willing their union to vanish with them so they could never be disturbed.

"Tomorrow, sweetlips-" Edward speaks lowly, his strong heartbeat at Louis' ear. "-Harry will fetch you in the morning."

Louis smiles, wide and appeased. He tries to hide it but Edward sees and it makes him chuckle. "R-Really?"

"Yes, Lou." Edward lies back against the headboard, petting his captive's hip when he starts to squirm. "But now, I need you to sleep for me."

"W-Will you leave m-me?" 

"Eventually." Edward cruelly admits, feeling more comforted by Louis' little body resting on his than he has been for most of his life. "When death comes to take me."

  
* * * * *  


Louis walks into the hallways of their school feeling brighter than he's ever felt. It could be because Edward stayed with him for all of last night and kissed him goodbye before disappearing out the window. Another explanation might root from Harry showing up at his door after his parents were gone with an offer to have fancy breakfast at a café.

They're holding hands now as Harry leads him through clumps of prying eyes belonging to inquisitive teenagers, but Louis keeps insisting to himself that it doesn't mean the same thing as when he holds hands with Edward.

In all black attire today, Harry easily complements his purpled eye and bust lip with a nonchalant attitude. Louis wanted to know if anything was hurting but didn't know how to bring it up yet. He was easily distracted by Niall breaking off mid-wave to gawk at Harry. Louis has restricted himself to Harry's forearm for touching and braces both his hands around it. 

"Here you are, kitten." Harry takes Louis' right hand and brings them to his lips, kissing the boldest knuckle with the deep set of his eyes spoiling Louis'. "I will see you in English."

Harry turns around on his heel and walks away before Louis can stutter his thanks. He's left at his locker alone with the company of his closest friends. "H-Hi."

Niall chooses to erupt on him, frightening Louis into flinching at such a high volume. "Don't even try it! What was _that_?"

Louis clutches his books tightly to his chest and shrugs weakly. Liam comes to his rescue. "Leave him alone, Ni."

Niall eyes him shiftily and Louis knows this won't be the end of it. "You're not doing anything crazy, are you?"

Louis fervently shakes his head to say no. He'd never push himself well beyond the boundaries of his comfort zone.

"Good." Niall finally hugs him, smelling of peppermint and caramel, and Louis can relax. "I worry about you."

"I know." Louis briefly gets to hug Liam. "Thank you for caring about me."

Niall sticks his bottom lip out. "I still want to hear everything about you and the Styles."

Liam groans and Louis' cheeks flare into bright pink. "U-Um-..there i-isn't much."

"I don't care." Niall loops his arm through Louis' after they bid Liam adieu to go to two different classes. "So spill. We have twenty minutes."

Their short trek takes them down the busy and frantic hallway towards their first classroom of the day, silence becoming more pronounced as the amount of students present thin out.

Louis tries not to get shy and awkward just thinking about three individuals with the same face but vastly different personalities. He can still feel Edward's lips on his where they last were this morning, so he tells Niall about him first. He sputters and races through some things, leaving out their forbidden midnight cuddling as a detail because some things just had to be _theirs_.

Without hesitation, he ends up sharing most of the kidnap story from yesterday. Niall and he lean against empty lockers next to the locked cafeteria door and chat in soft voices, laughing together or Niall boldly gaping at such a fantasy coming true. It felt like a twisted fairytale.

"You officially have the most exciting life." Niall tells him, almost reverently as the tardy bell rings. "Good for you, by the way."

Louis feels that blushing any harder might render loss of blood so he glances down at his shoes and licks his lips. "Th-Thank you."

Niall remembers something he ought to have known earlier before discussing the lengthy topic of Louis' budding romances. "Hey, when's your-"

"Lou?" A third voice breaks their communication that neither saw get closer or heard the footsteps to its owner. 

Louis looks over his shoulder and upon identifying Marcel's unsure stance, falls back against the lockers to look at him more clearly. Niall doesn't know whether to go or stay but decides to cut the choices down the middle. He steps back a few paces when Louis tells him with a smile that it's okay, ready to unintentionally eavesdrop.

He's in a dark plaid shirt, buttoned to the first one, and has questionably tight black jeans. Marcel doesn't mind Niall as he walks up to Louis, backpack over his one shoulder and hair falling at the sides of his face. He doesn't push it away when it threatens to near his eye, turn it bloodshot with prickling. Louis tilts his head back slightly to look at Marcel silently, a faint smile offered before he turns away.

"Can I talk to you?" Marcel asks with one of his lips more swollen than the other because of his teeth constantly worrying it.

Louis has to take a step back before he feels like the only air he's inhaling comes from the fumes of Marcel's cologne. The faintest traces of a shadow on his jaw and upper lip have disappeared so he's facing Louis freshly shaven.

"A-Alright." Louis winces at his scratchy voice and sneaks a peek up at Marcel.

He hears a sigh, unable to read from what emotive source it comes. Marcel pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he leans forward, a little hunched to provide intimacy.

"Oh! Uh- I have these for you." Marcel fishes something wrinkled and paper out of his pocket, holding it out to Louis with pride broadening his soft smile.

"What a-are they?" Louis sniffles at the dust where they are and accepts the offering with tentative hands.

He unfolds their state and reads the rectangular piece of paper, printed with bright background images and Admit One at the end of two pieces. _Star Wars tickets._ Flabbergasted, Louis fishmouths through his gratitude as excitement builds a fort in his ribcage. He hasn't been to see it and this weekend will be its last in theatres, promises made and broken about going to see it.

"Thank you." He doesn't stutter when he says it, involuntarily surging forward and hugging the gift-giver around his waist. "I-I thought I'd n-never go."

Marcel seems thrown by such an ardent display of affection when he was expecting a smile at most. Not that he's ungrateful because he certainly is, taking advantage of the moment to embrace Louis' warmth with both arms and an unrecognised peck on the boy's head.

"They're for you and a friend, doll." Marcel holds on when Louis withdraws, praying that his grip will entice Louis to stay for a moment longer. "Take whoever you want."

The bubble bursts because Louis does pull away, back to his reserved self that is not a true reflection of the boy he is. Marcel has to drop his arms back to his sides, feeling an eternal warmth beneath the surface of his skin. He rakes his fingers through his hair and waits for _something more._

Louis wants to hide his tickets away because they're the best gift he's ever gotten but he knows he must do something of courtesy. "I-I....Will you c-ome?"

There's something genuine about the way Marcel's smile takes over his face and his dimples deepen to amplify his signature boyish charm. He was expecting one of his brothers to be asked instead of him, because Louis is overly fond of Edward and warming up speedily to Harry.

"You want me to?" Marcel catches his bag before it falls to the ground. 

Louis nods to confirm it, biting his smile by sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. He really wants Marcel to come with him because it was he who was meant to go with Louis. Then he remembers Edward and what not informing him about a rendezvous could cost them. 

"I-I-" Louis doesn't know how to say that he has to ask Edward first because they're firmly planted in the activity of 'dating'. "Edward."

"Ah." Marcel acknowledges this with a roll of his eyes. "I'll ask him for us then."

Louis assumes that whoever it is that does ask will get a singular response. He consents to it by not restraining his smile when Marcel looks comically torn between a scowl and a grin. They hear the bell above their heads and Louis covers his ears to protect them, triggering an inward coo at how adorable he appears to be.

Needless to say, Niall gets scolded approximately thirteen times for trying to get those tickets from Louis. They were treasured to the new owner and he wouldn't even take them out of his pocket. 

"You can't keep doing this to me." Niall professes in the bathroom where Louis is washing his hands before their lunch hour. "They're just tickets."

Liam chews gum and pretends like he can't hear any of what they're saying but Louis can feel his stare burning two adjacent holes in his back. "I said it before. Leave him alone, Ni."

Louis gets two paper hand towels from the dispenser and wipes his hands dry before using the other to hold the door handle. The cafeteria is filled with people of faces and identities Louis doesn't recognise but he's looking for one particular face. He spots Marcel sitting at a table in the corner of the room, leafing through the pages in one of his larger textbooks. 

"Stop staring." Niall teases, poking Louis' arm harmlessly. "You'll drool."

Louis turns red and looks away from Marcel's figure flickering in-between students who walk by. "I-I-....-"

Niall skeptically hums and accompanies Louis towards the short queue meant for filling their food trays. Louis keeps glancing Marcel's way for some reason and Niall notices. 

"You can go talk to him if you want." Niall nudges Louis' arm with a gentle bump of his elbow, jerking his chin in the direction of Marcel's table. "We can catch up later."

Louis rubs his sweaty palms down the fabric of his pants, feeling the reassuring bump from his recently claimed movie tickets. They were his purpose for trying to speak with Marcel but it seemed like quite a distance to make it there under the scrutiny and violence of a buzzing cafeteria at the only break of the day.

 _Star Wars_ however, majorly helped him create a fantastical childhood in which he lived in peace with isolation at his side. He felt like he _owed_ it to the franchise to protest this pair of paper tickets that won't be sacrificed should his clumsy self put them in jeopardy.

That's how he takes up Niall's offer and leaves his bag with Liam without volunteering it - having Liam for a friend meant he was going to be an overzealous gentleman and there was no helping it. He weaved through small groups and avoided larger ones by walking a mile to the side of them, loud bursts of laughter and cat-calls to others making him wince. 

Marcel's work station got closer and Louis waited while he caught his breath, extracting the tickets from his front pocket with cautious hands. He looked at them for a minute, once again self-smiling when the giddiness settles into bubbles in his tummy. Images of the galaxy and the much anticipated movie title, Louis planned to pin this up next to Shakespeare's play flyer.

Just like that, they were snatched out of his hands.

"What you got there, Tomlinson?" Asked the thief, a heavy arm draping itself around Louis' shoulders and pulling him much too close.

Louis shudders at contact with someone else, someone he _used to know_. Stephen Pearson. Stephen, who was once as close to Louis as Niall and Liam until he thought their company to be not worthy anymore and humiliated Louis via the big screen at a party he wasn't even at. He'd made it known to the entire school populous that Louis was gay. The next day, everyone threw condoms at him in the hallways. He spent the entirety of the day crying under the bleachers, folded in on himself and wishing for a form of invisibility.

Stephen was alone though, without his obnoxious posse, treating Louis like they were still friends. Louis feels throttled and beaten up everytime he even looks in Stephen's grey-eyed direction. That stale, undead feeling replenishing itself after Louis took _years_ mending the damage. He tries to withdraw himself before he shatters once again, mind shut down and leaving him without intellect.

"Hold on." Stephen blew warm breath down Louis' cheek when he held him back, hurting him with how crippling his grip was.

Louis looked away from him, heart thumping in his chest and a headache being born. He saw Liam and that gave him hope because like when Stephen broke it off with them, Liam would save him. 

"Enough." 

This isn't Liam and Louis is almost further frightened until he glances in the direction of the voice and gushes relief. He favours Marcel over Stephen and conveys with pleading eyes that he'd like to be freed, unable to swallow the lump in his air pipes or save himself the trauma of not being constantly pushed.

Marcel doesn't look to be the type for nonsense. He's taller and better kept in physique than Stephen, easily becoming more dominant without an ounce of effort. Marcel swiped the intended tickets from Stephen's temporarily spooked hands, taking Louis by the elbow before delivering a shove so brutal that it triggered Stephen's fumble and fall.

The school hadn't even been paying attention so Stephen was left embarrassed, to pick up whatever his objective was and leave.

As Louis was brought closer to Marcel by dragging, he felt like the air was breathable again and he was no longer stunted by the venomous talons of an ungrateful ex-friend. Marcel doesn't get enough affection for saving Louis but the boy does accept when he's gently kissed his the temple, a soft sound leaving his parted lips. 

"You're okay now, doll." Marcel tells him lowly, dropping his arm from around Louis' back. 

He holds up the tickets between them and forces Louis to look at him when the boy turns to the side. His finger and thumb tilt Louis' head back, not forcefully but gently to merely guide him. Louis meets Marcel's eye when he's still unsure of why he's still shivering, still got fearful goosebumps. The green penetrates such liquid crystal, hardening to stone when the owner reads the emotions in Louis' eyes.

"What were you doing with these?" Marcel asks, thumbing over the only crease the paper symbols had.

Louis looks at them longingly. He's easily bypassed the Stephen incident for the sake of something grander. "Ke- I want you t-to keep them."

Marcel frowns. "Do you not want them anymore?"

Instantly Louis starts to shake his head, emphasis in the honesty in the power of his gaze. "I-......-"

"Lou." Liam has reached them and extending his arm towards Louis, flaming hot judgment when he perceives Marcel. 

Louis wants to rush and say this, hand on Marcel's wrist to bring him back from glaring at Liam. "K-Keep them safe please."

Marcel looks down at where Louis' fingers graze his palm when he's pulling away. Louis has taken Liam's hand when it was offered and only looked back over his shoulder twice to smile goodbye at Marcel.

**_[A/N: I am melted. - S xx]_ **


	7. SEVEN

**_[A/N: To those picking on my Eddy-baby, we aren't friendsssss. It well and truly blows me away to see how well this story has done with just six chapters. Thank you all a mindboggling amount for supporting my works for nearly three years now. I love you all. - S xx]_ **

_"Get out of my house!"_ Louis' shoulder was roughly yanked and his entire mass thrown to the ground outside his own front door. 

He landed on his behind, looking up to stare heartbroken and shocked at the woman who is tossing him out at such a late hour. His back and hands hurt from where he scraped the uneven tarred ground, bleeding scratches on his palms and bruises on his back. He didn't want to get up yet lest he be pushed again.

The night was nearing and turning fiercely cold. Louis just had his favourite - now slightly ripped - T-shirt on with a superhero graphic on the back. He whimpered from his injuries and hugged himself around his front, starting to shiver.

Melinda, his stepmother, was in her robe and slippers, drawing in deep breaths from her third cigarette as she kicked his school bag out with him. It landed on his chest upon sudden impact, knocking the air out of him and sloshing the first milkshake he's had in a year in his tummy. Niall bought it for him.

"W-Wh-What did I-" The door slamming in his face never failed to shut him up instantly.

His father is on a business retreat and promised to bring back Louis a decent souvenir. Unfortunately, in his absence Melinda has taken on the dominant role in the only home he's ever going to have and taken it from him. That salvation is gone and he's left to face loneliness with damp cheeks and shaking hands.

Unsteadily and with much effort, Louis gets to his feet and tries not to make any aggravating sounds when pangs of hurt spiral up his nervous system. He bites his lip and picks his bag up off the driveway, hugging it close to his chest for warmth. 

Where will he go? It's Friday and he was gleefully informed that Liam promised Niall a short trip to a neighbouring town for the entirety of the weekend. He has no family here and even fewer friends.

As the darkness creeps on over his small body, engulfing it with its strength and majesty, Louis let's his feet take him where they may. His body is pale and ruffled from the wind whipping around him in torment. He even lost his balance more than a few times. The streets are definitely not empty because Fridays are always filled with drunken, slurring youngsters who have warm beds and a person to share it with. None of them notice him however and he's grateful.

Louis comes to one stop only and it's to face the slightly parted gates of _Middleston State Cemetery_. He can't believe he's here, tears drying on his face because it wasn't worth wiping them off. Shakily he pushes open one wrought iron gate further until he's able to slip through. It rattles very little and even the distasteful screech of metal on stone makes Louis feel uneasy and scared.

He's alone in a town where nobody seems to adhere to rules of courtesy. This allows him to be as unnerved as he is, slipping through cracks and gaps to escape being ridiculed. Tears, hot and scathing, mean nothing when there's no one to take them away. Louis spends little of his life crying physically, for the sake of his facade. 

The thirty-first headstone from the back is where he comes to a halt, next to one made of white porcelain. His mom resting forever besides her mother. He rarely comes here because he tries to avoid being emotional but tonight he's frightened and alone, bringing him to the one place he'll regard as his anchor.

"H-Hi, Ma." He tries not to chop his speech with stuttering but the chilly wind is so harsh that it causes his teeth to chatter, hurting his gums. "I-I did-didn't bring f-flowers. Sorry."

The two graves can't reply but he's already feeling ill at ease just being here. He carefully sets his bag down against his leg and sits, cross-legged to face his deceased family. Thinking about how his mother used to wipe his tears or cuts with her shirt, kiss them better when he was too young to appreciate it, brings a fresh flood or horrific emotions to his heart.

Burning his cheeks and being tasted on his tongue, tears don't stop rolling down his face until they're dampening his shirt. "I-I miss you. Y-You and G-Grandma."

He thumbs over the sharp blades of grass, watching ants scurry about between them. He'll never pick the leaves off, never could. It felt too cruel and he'd never want to be what life is to him.

"Sh-She kicked m-me out." Louis continues, a ladybug resting on his thumb with the faintest yellow spots. 

He watches it crawl across his hand and house itself in the dent of his wrist, wishing they could swap places just for a moment.

  
* * * * *  


Marcel raises his hand to knock on the dripping red front door of Louis' home, one tucked into the pocket of his blazer. He's gotten a perfectly planned, finely tuned extravagant night in place for Louis. He wants the boy to have the absolute best and especially since it's all been done behind Edward's back but not Harry's, far more work has gone into the preparation.

The door swings open to reveal a dishevelled, beaming middle-aged woman in a bathrobe. Her lipstick is a bit smeared and there are curlers in her hair, a sick shade of brown for eyes. 

"How can I help ya, sugar?" Smacking gum between her lipstick-stained teeth, she gave him a once over with eyes like a serpent's. 

Yeah, no. Marcel did _not_ have time for women who behaved like whores and bitches. He disregarded her tackiness and cleared his throat. "I'm here for Louis."

The Louis that should not be exposed to people such as her. Pronoun's weren't declared as concrete yet and thus far he was Edward's little boyfriend but the adjustment to _theirs_ ought to happen soon.

Her face fell a little before it turned her lips up into a snarl. "The boy ain't here."

Marcel grew infuriated, expression hardening to one that left Melinda unsettled. She sighed and lifted her hands in defense, fake nails on display. "I can't help ya with that one. He's a bit.... _loose._ "

Fury sneaked its way up into Marcel's already foggy mind. He didn't want to abuse a woman because he had morals, deep down somewhere he'd find them at moments he needed them. Unparalleled is his ability to restrain himself from violence, much unlike his brothers who lashed out at anything that spoke words incorrectly.

He doesn't wait to tell her anything further and hardly hears her calling him out above the blood pounding in his head. With deft fingers he dials Edward's number. He wasn't even thinking as he did it, lost to anger and revenge. 

"I'm here." Edward answers with, as is a custom. He never answers anything with a conventional response.

"Louis." Marcel grits out, shoving his keys into the driver's door handle and yanking it open. "Where is he?"

Edward was trying to microwave something with Harry getting two beers out of the fridge, but that all stops along with time itself when he hears Marcel's question. Louis isn't with him and wherever Marcel is, he isn't either. He hardly pauses to register the reason behind why Marcel is asking him this before he's responding curtly.

"I'll find him." He hangs up. 

Edward goes for his jacket and keys first, abandoning all hope for a decent dinner. Harry doesn't bother with him and can't decipher why his older sibling is suddenly on the ball until he gets Marcel's call as well.

"Hello?" He answers with the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, uncapping a bottle of beer. 

"Louis isn't at home." Marcel rushes to tell him, all being silent in the background except the revving of an engine. "We need to find him before Edward does."

Harry's beer bottle falls into the sink, and he's jogging out of the kitchen to the foyer in urgency. The worry riddles his mind and he battles with a bout of faint nausea that rattles his brain. 

"Why before Edward?" He loops his finger through the key-ring of his Audi's keys.

Marcel sounds like he's clenching all his words between the blunt caps of his molars, voice tight and cold. "If Edward finds him he'll spend the next two days away from us."

Harry knew why they couldn't let that happen, or risk even nearing said possibility. Edward would steal any opportunity they _earned_ to himself woo a boy they all adored. The eldest triplet already stood with a firm place of Louis in his arms, some connection between the two of them seeming to bring them together.

"I'll get it done. I'll find him." He vows before hanging up and storming out of the house, shudder of tinted glass echoing through the night.

  
* * * * *  


Louis almost fell asleep right there against the sturdy tree trunk of the one present beside his family's graves. He hears further creaking of the gate, loud and abrupt enough to make his heart leap into his throat. Swallowing thickly, he scrambles to his feet where some height gave him a decent vantage point.

It was too dark out already, navy sewn into the skies with specks of silver or white to play the stars. The moon was hung just above his head and when looked upon by a stranger, paled in comparison to a mortal so ravished with treasures. He doesn't see it, never will until someone sheds blood proving it to him.

Squinting through the whistling breeze that messed up his hair and made the tip of his nose red, Louis saw the broad silhouette of someone walking into the cemetery. They're without a shirt under their jacket and scanning the landscape to find something. Could it be him they're looking for? He can't identify the stranger from this far but then they're looking _at him_ and he sucks in a sharp breath because he _knows_.

Edward.

It wastes all but half a second for Edward to make it over to him, not moving slower than a sprint. He's a formidable force that Louis shouldn't be smiling at but he is and if Edward is forbidden for him, let it be that the stars are crossed.

Finally when he comes to his stop, Edward's pale skin compares to Louis as he steps all the closer. Edward studies all that Louis' eyes read as, relieved to finally have him. He has deep, hooded black eyes that have been blown wide with concern and worry, no words needing to be spoken until he's had a taste of Louis' lips. 

Louis leans in when Edward touches him, his waist and hugging him tightly. He hides his face in Edward's chest where he's warm and soothed by the touch of bare skin. Small hands, insignificant in strength, grab onto Edward's sides with the softest whimper. 

Edward cups his cheek and bends low enough to connect their lips, breathing in the sorrow and pain his boy is experiencing. It angers him, turns his vision bloody red. He holds on tighter to Louis with a concentrated frown burdening his brow. Louis still smells of things from the finest place above Earth, himself being so delicate and caring.

"Why are you here, my sweetlips?" Edward keeps his palms framing Louis' face, not knowing whether more kisses or embraces are needed next.

Louis answers both questions by burrowing into Edward's clavicle, easily fitted below his chin. Edward cradles the back of his head, smoothing the ruffled hair and roping his arms around the boy.

"I-I-...-" Louis feels to _troubled_ by the reality of his situation to narrate it without tears. "D-Don't make m-me go back. Pl-ease."

Louis is crying again, into Edward's shirt where his tears dampened the pricey fabric. He fisted the material with both hands and shook his head, whining as if hurt, when Edward tries to look him in the eye. Edward gives up because it was better having Louis against him. 

"Shh, Lou. Don't cry." Edward gently has them swaying to calm Louis down, rubbing his back to hasten the process. He didn't want Louis spending any amount of time here more than is necessary.

  
* * * * *  


Harry pushes the rusted, creaky cemetery gate open with both hands. The weather is against him as he tries to ignore the sting of sand and dust risen to flow with the cold wind. He's driven nearly till his sanity's end, a headache pulsing through the blood vessels in his head. 

Frozen fingertips and bloodshot eyes, Harry can only kick the dirt and curse under his breath when he realises he's too late. Louis is securely tucked into Edward's arms and a little smile tugging on his pink, thin lips as his brother coaxes more from him. Harry feels his blood boil rapidly, singing the walls of his madness until he turns around to leave with a kick to the gate. 

The raw trauma of it is unmistakeable. Edward has far more connections in the street who know everything about anyone. He was able to find Louis after a few phone calls. It feels like a punch in the gut when Harry dials Marcel once inside his SUV where he can't hurt anything else.

"Yeah?" Marcel is breathless, hectic shuffling in the background.

"Edward found him." Harry coughs into his fist, moving the phone away to bear the brunt of his respiratory fit. "First."

"Well fuck." Marcel mutters hatefully, tyres screeching to a halt. "We can't-"

"You can't." Harry cuts him off, blocked by tinted windows as he watches Louis easily let Edward hold him by the hand. "I don't give up that easily."

  
* * * * *  


Edward couldn't physically whisk Louis off to somewhere grand and majestic like he hoped, because what they had was young and needed nurturing before their bodily contact elevated in status. He could safely hold Louis' hand and would take advantage of such a privilege, linking their fingers together and letting Louis walk by his side until the road came to an end.

"Where would you like me take you?" Edward didn't fancy that it was getting closer to midnight and they - he means more Louis than himself - were still outside.

Louis sniffles through the cold and when he speaks, his voice is clogged. He has the brightest, bluest eyes still and they bring time itself to a halt whenever unleashed. "I-I-....I wanna go _home_."

Edward sighed and gave Louis' forehead a press of his lips. Louis was so innocent, so chaste that it mutilated the remnants of Edward's heart. "Not this weekend, sweetlips. You're going to spend the next two days with me."

Louis' curiosity is an innate feature that he hides for the sake of his own good. "W-Why?"

"The answer is simple." Edward starts them walking towards the exit, not caring for the sleek SUV that pulls away from the curb at that moment. "I don't want you to _want_ to go back home."

Louis looks at him with reddened streaks beneath his tired eyes, a new little sparkle just adding life to his orbs. 

"Is that alright?" Edward asks when Louis doesn't respond, chewing on his lip and tasting the metal of his piercing. 

There's no answer for a decent amount of time while Louis stews the proposition over in his head. He knows the pro's and con's and just wants to disregard them all for the next forty-eight hours, despite him not being allowed to. Not once has he been offered the chance to break free from the shackles of a monotonous, emotionally-draining vicious cycle of living. 

"O-Okay." He replies, but with a further adjustment to the agreement. "I-I want um-....H-Harry and Marcel t-to be there too."

Edward chuckles, positively gone for this wonderful specimen of the angels the supreme being above creates daily. "I thought that was implied, sweetlips."

Louis relaxes a bit at the response. He never displays it but Marcel and Harry make great company for his solemn self. Silence befalls them once more and Edward holds open the gate when they reach it, letting Louis slip through before himself. Louis gets to sit in the front passenger seat for the drive, holding his school bag on his lap and staring out the window at everything that passes.

"Have you eaten today?" Edward asks, turning into the tiny city that they'll have to pass in order to reach the Styles residence. 

"Yes." Louis lies. Technically he isn't lying because he ate half a banana at lunch and a spoonful of Niall's apricot yogurt after school. 

They come to a red light and Louis doesn't see Edward's arm extending, only able to gasp loudly when his hand touches his front. The sound is accompanied by a squeak as he tries to wriggling to the opposite end of the seat but Edward grips his shirt.

"You're hungry." He deadpans, both Louis' working to get his one off. It's like pulling on titanium.

Louis doesn't appreciate this touching very much and struggles to squirm free, which he never does. He huffs out of nervous reproach but Edward physically refuses to back up, blunt nails digging into Louis' front and keeping him positioned. His goal earns him the soft vibration of when the boy's tummy grumbles.

"We're going to get you something to eat." Edward says firmly, retracting his hand to rest on the centre console between them. 

Louis heard his belly rumble again and succumbed to the human nature that is hunger after a day and a half without food. He shields his front from other prying opportunities and tries blocking himself by curling in on his small frame on the seat. Edward keeps passing side glances at him. 

"I sense-" He releases a sigh of no perceivable emotion as they come to a stop in the drive-thru of KFC. "-that you're going to give me a hard time about the food."

Before Louis can open his mouth to defend himself, frozen lips feeling numb but laden with Edward's taste, he realises that Edward is speaking honestly. He knows he's going to say no repeatedly until something expires and Edward gives up, storming off like everyone else and letting him peacefully decay emotionally. He says nothing rather.

Edward moves the car a short distance forward and sits back, cracking his tattooed knuckles and nibbling on his pierced lip. Louis feels like a weirdo as he stares at the side profile of the most infamous individual in their tiny town, just barely containing a gasp when Edward's eyes dart to the side and catch him. 

A smirk rises to Edward's features after he notices Louis rush to turn away, a fresh shade of pink taking to his cheeks. Suddenly, as if his quaint moment of silent thought had triggered something in him, Edward reaches out just less than half a meter to rest his hand mid-air. His palm is turned up, fingers curled just to the right extent so it looks like the most comfortable place for Louis' hand to be.

He need not have been with Edward for long to know he's expected to respond to this act of offering, and does so without pondering long. It felt soft yet secure, warm and most anchored to take Edward's hand in his. On the console he crooked his fingers between Edward's and hides his smile when the man squeezes his appendages.

Edward takes Louis' hand, bringing it closer to his lap. He distracts himself from the gruelling wait of a car ahead of them in the drive-thru by playing with Louis' fingers. His thumb brushed back and forth over the boy's knuckles, grazed the finest bronze hairs on his thin fingers and teased to moon shape of his nails. 

Louis' thumb nail was bitten, probably from the amount of nerves he let's get ahold of his nature at odd times in the day. Edward didn't like seeing the skin around it so tough, peeled off at some spots enough to bleed or turn terribly red. He doesn't know why he does it but when he does bring Louis' hand closer for a gentle peck from his lips, he has the boy staring with an agape jaw.

"It's rude to stare, sweetlips." Edward goes back to mildly inspecting Louis' hand, memorizing the smallest dents and slightest pulses. 

"M-My hand." Louis tries to convey his half a dozen thoughts with just two words. 

Edward chuckles and releases Louis' hand to shift the vehicle forward. Now that he's gotten his own back, Louis hides both wrists behind his knees and feels the tiny tingles left behind by Edward's skin against his. He hears the window rolling down and Edward mutter about the selections before choosing a rather large order. Louis crosses his legs on the wider than convention leather seat, appreciating the purr of the engine and warmth from the heater.

"Do you have a phone, sweetlips?" Edward has paid for the food and is waiting at the last window to get their order.

Louis looks at him, turning a little in his seat with his legs folded on the seat. He shakes his head to say no and sucks his lip into the trap between his teeth, eyes darting to the side when the woman at the window hands over their brown bags of food. Edward takes them and places the four bags in the back-seat, pulling out of the lot at last.

"I'd like for you to have one." Edward remarks, smoothly passing by cars in his varying lanes to get onto his house's street.

Louis doesn't know what to say to that and keeps looking out the window at what's passing him by. The homes get more fashionable, larger with grander windows and steel gates. Indoor pools glisten and reflect shimmering against the tinted glass. Some are three floors high and others are connected by suspended walkway. People who owned these houses had more zeroes in their bank accounts than Louis' seen all his life.

"Are you listening, baby?" Edward raps his fingers on the steering wheel as they pull up in front of a pair of black gates, imprinted with the emblem of an 'S'.

Louis mindlessly nods, far too enthralled by the beauty of such a place existing to be the home of so few people. Three, to be exact. The driveway is circular and pebbled as it leads up to the mansion's front door. He's of course been here before but seeing it at night is a whole new blissful wonder.

He doesn't hear Edward chuckle at his expression or climb out to get to his side. When Edward opens his door, stealing the balance Louis had so he nearly fell forward, he's faced with Louis trying to conceal his unsuppressable giggle.

"You're beautiful when you laugh." Edward's fingertip caresses the crinkles at the corners of Louis' eyes. "You are gorgeous all the time, sweetlips, but especially so when these eyes of yours are happy as well."

He takes Louis by the hand and his waist, helping him hop down but unable to withhold his own laugh when the boy doesn't release his shoulders. Edward keeps his arm secured around Louis' waist to hold him close, gathering the food and locking the SUV before leading Louis by the dip of his back.

"Go on up." Edward encourages at the base of the stairs, all thirteen narrow ones, with a small nudge to Louis' hip. 

Louis looks at him in question, holding just one food bag with both hands and his school bag on Edward's shoulder.

Edward's lips turn up in a lopsided smirk that dimples one cheek and guides a shiver like satin down Louis' back. "I will meet you there, sweetlips. Knock on the door for my brothers."

Secret intention remaining as it is, Edward watches Louis take cautious footing for the first few steps before glancing back over his shoulder to make certain this is the right way. Halfway up, Louis gains a courage that's delightful to witness as he jogs up the rest of the steps and smiles to himself like it's a real victory of his. Edward doesn't move an inch forward until he sees Louis press the doorbell. 

Louis stands there waiting for someone to answer him, turning around a few times to look at Edward. He gets no further guidance and when he hears clicking of the door latch, braces himself for anything. What bravery developed has since shrivelled up and turned rotten.

"Kitten?" 

Like lightning, Louis' gaze rises from the ground beneath his favourite floral shoes and he settles on Harry looking down at him. The latter is a little thrown, smile teasing his lips as he steps past the door in his shirtless state to receive his _lovely little guest._

Louis has to continually avert his gaze from Harry's bare chest when it's all his eyes seem to fall on. From those piercing emeralds nestling into the embrace of sapphires and the sea of emotions Louis' soul guarded the modesty of. Harry is ecstatic to have Louis here, although puzzled by why Edward isn't in view with him.

"I didn't think I'd have the honour of seeing you tonight." Harry speaks in a whisper, finally aware when Edward takes the steps two at a time and meets his eye with a scowl.

Edward surrenders the food to Harry by pushing it against his chest. "I have somewhere to be. _Take care of him_."

Louis hears this and this rendered a lot blue in mood. He thought Edward would be with him as well. When the man turns to leave again, he is sure to give Louis' forehead a kiss and then his thin beckoning lips.

"If you are to trust anyone other me, sweetlips, it ought to be my brothers." Edward tells him, true nobility of his blood-line coming through. "I have to go but you will spend the night in my room. Be comfortable with anything of mine, baby."

Harry stews in envy as Louis nods to accept the bargain and gets another chaste touch of Edward's lips on his cheek. He even mumbles a soft farewell before Edward actually departs.

"Come inside, kitten." Harry gestures for Louis to step indoors, shutting the door soundly behind them. 

Louis sticks to Harry's side for the sake of keeping from drowning in all of this house's glory. The foyer itself is far too intimidating and he seems to find perfect grounding in wrapping his hands around Harry's forearms. He is led into the kitchen from there, shuffling quietly forward until Harry makes him sit on a stool at the counter.

"Are you hungry?" Harry stands right before him, revelling in Louis holding onto him as he neatens some of the boy's messy fringe.

Translucent and encapturing, Louis' eyes pin Harry's heart to his ribcage. Each breath felt laboured and he was speaking low enough to make everything a secret. Louis shakes his head and neatly sets the smallest bag of food he held down on the counter.

"You are cold." Harry observes unkindly, framing Louis' face and feeling his chilled skin. "That's not good, kitten."

Louis smiles brokenly and his giggle is a little lighthearted but Harry is fond of anyhow. The man rubs Louis' back from the base of his neck to the curve of his spine where each knob was distinctly pronounced against his pale, supple skin clothed by his shirt. Harry kisses over the spot where Edward kissed, smothering as well as wiping off the traces of his brother. Louis is not so displeased with the change in affection and his eyelids slip shut, forehead resting on Harry's shoulder. 

Harry's hands cover Louis' ears as he turns towards the staircase leading to the level above them that rested behind him. "Marcel!"

Stunned to amusement, Louis' eyes sparkle with humour when Harry gets to see them in their breathtaking state again. "Y-You're funny."

Harry beams like he's been given the best compliment ever. He brushes Louis' hair back to be tucked in behind his ear. "You are the only one to ever say that about me, kitten."

Louis blushes in a remarkably noteworthy way. He enjoys the smell of the food too much, especially since he's aware he won't be eating any of it. Edward isn't present so he may slip by on the deal.

"Are you hungry?" Harry's freshly showered scent overpowers Louis' senses as he steps away to open a few of the bags. 

Taking his cue, Louis starts to shake his head. "N-No."

"Kitten." Harry warns Louis with his tone of non-negotiation. 

They hear muted footsteps on the staircase and Louis bites his lip with nervous tension, fretting that his lie won't work. 

"I don't take no for an answer." Harry had his fingers fanned out between Louis' shoulder blades, holding him near and dear.

Louis ducks his head and upon staring at the floor between Harry's arm and his side, can see a pair of socked feet enter the kitchen as well. He peeks over Harry's shoulder and catches a whole eyeful of Marcel looking sleepy from probably a short nap, redness in his eyes from rubbing them too much behind his thick black-framed glasses. 

"Are you going to say no again?" Harry gently scratches Louis' back through his shirt, feeling the boy relax against him like a true figure of his petname.

Resigning to obeying, Louis shakes his head no. "I-I'll eat."

Harry kisses the back of Louis' neck and waits a whole moment with closed eyes to take in the boy in his arms with all the sweetness and humility he comes with. In a graphic T-shirt representing some old zombie movie and slacks, Marcel doesn't see Louis until he's done yawning.

"Lou?" Marcel sounds shocked, stopping short in his path to the food. "You're here?"

Louis can only smile broadly and hook his chin over Harry's shoulder to convey a greeting. "Hi."

Harry let's Louis go for the sake of preparing their late dinner. The boy settles back into his seat, Marcel striding up to the one alongside him where he takes up residence. Still a bit tired, Marcel has drowsy eyes that are a little watery. Louis feels comfortable when their elbows brush and preens when Marcel kisses his forehead. He has three kisses from three of the most attractive men on the planet.

"Eat this." Harry slides the plastic container across the counter towards Louis, a tissue-wrapped fork atop the lid. He gives Louis a clear-cut look of firm authority. "All of it, kitten."

Louis had his head on Marcel's shoulder, where the latter rested his own cheek against Louis' temple. He got the playful side of the boy they all desire to come out, because of his own light-heartedness.

"Listen to him, doll." Marcel takes his brother's side and cracks open the container to let the delicious aroma of chicken and mash waft through the air. 

Whining in a volume so low that neither Styles can hear, Louis turns away from the food. It looked and smelts _divine_ but he'd hate himself if he were to put all of it in his pudgey, ungrateful body. Chubbiness and too feminine curves were already faults of his.

"Would you like some help?" Marcel offers, lips dragging across Louis' temple as he spoke.

"W-What kind of h-help?" Louis picked at the corners of the tissue he had. 

Bemused, Marcel shook his head in laughter and stood up off his stool before reaching for Louis' hand. He took it in his, cold smoothness on calloused warmth, and helped Louis out of the kitchen with their food in his other hand. 

"Where are you going?" Harry asks, clipped, without looking up from his storing the rest of the food away.

"Living room." Marcel replies when Louis gets distracted by looking back, tugging him along to the lounge.

He gave Louis the pleasure of choosing a seat first, not stopping to celebrate in gratitude when Louis chooses the double-seater. The TV comes on after he locates the remote and let's Louis pick a channel with a show to watch. At first it takes more coaxing than usual to convince him that whatever he chose was okay with them.

"Neither of us watch the television enough to care, doll." Marcel admits to him, offering Louis the quilt draped over the couch to cover himself. 

Louis looked positively adorable when he wrapped the quilt around himself, saying nothing more than his thanks and concealing his body behind the woollen blanket. Marcel sat beside him on the sofa, legs folded underneath his weight and spooning some food into the utensil. 

"Open up." Marcel holds the spoon close to Louis' hidden mouth, praying to the nearest deity that he isn't behaving strangely.

Instead, Louis giggles and reveals his lips. "I'm n-not a baby."

Marcel bets the cash he has and any asset he possesses that Louis' slightly high-pitched voice sounded so innocent, so marvellous that it had to belong to someone who needed saving. 

"I know, doll." He clears his throat and thoughts, victim to Louis' stare. "Doesn't matter though, does it?"

Louis looks down for a moment, fingers fidgeting with the loops of wool and cotton at the edges of his blanket. His shirt was pooling at his clavicle, the skin looking so pearly white and delicate. Marcel had to grip the items in his hands tight enough to restrain himself from _doing anything drastic_.

When he looks up again from his lap, Marcel has Louis waiting patiently for _who knows how long_ with his lips parted and little pink tongue hidden behind their barrier. It nearly steals all the air from the other male's lungs to leave him a paralysed man with no gaps in his heart left for adoration other than this one right here.

Louis eats slowly, if anything. He chews for nearly eight or so minutes, swallowing in smaller portions before readying himself for the next bite. The food soothes something differentially special in his gut that hasn't been sated before, a type of starvation that needed replenishing for all his life. Marcel is so thoughtful to wait until he's done chewing each time, letting Louis lean against him and watch an old space movie. 

Harry comes to join them after he puts Edward's food in the warmer. He sits in the single seater adjacent to them and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, a can of something laden with caffeine in his hand. Louis can't identify it and when Harry catches him squinting at it, blushes before turning his face into Marcel's torso.

"Edward will be home by early morning." Marcel tells Louis after the horrendous space movie is over and Louis has yawned a total of twelve times. "You can-"

"He's staying in Edward's room." Harry cuts across to say with finality, again not lifting his head from his food.

Edward didn't have to bring Louis here, leave the boy with them and bags of food. He could have taken Louis away with him, and maybe Louis definitely a prize to be tossed between them but Edward is mindlessly possessive and never gave things up. Besides granting them a privilege, he allowed Louis some time to know these others as if they could be to him what Edward was.

"Good." Marcel says, not fuelling the intrigue in Louis' eyes. "I'll show you where it is."

Louis gets up and takes the quilt with him, too fond of the soft stuffed fabric to let it go just yet. He carries his school backpack in one hand and let's Marcel hold the other, guiding him up the numerous steps to the second floor. It was carpeted and led into an extensive hallway with many doors, not all of which had uses.

Marcel let Louis walk at his leisurely pace, taking everything in as he went from door to door. The boy saw paintings he didn't understand and photographs with smudged signatures. There weren't any family photos and he wanted to ask why but didn't.

"Y-You have a beautiful h-home." He compliments instead, thinking it wiser as he clasps the quilt tighter around his shoulders. 

"Thank you, doll." Marcel gives Louis' temple a kiss for that. "You are always welcome here, you know."

Louis has to stop walking when they come to the only beige door amongst an army of white. Marcel twists the handle and let's the door swing back on its hinges for him, only releasing Louis' hand when he absolutely has to let go. 

"Sweet dreams, Lou." He says to bid the sleepy boy adieu. 

Unsuspectingly, Louis bounces up on his tiptoes to peck Marcel's cheek before dashing out of arm's length. He enters Edward's room and shuts the door without looking back, heat travelling from his lips to his cheeks as he leans back against it. 

He feels exceptionally giddy upon flipping the light on and having light shed upon everything that's momentarily his for the borrowing. Edward's room is spacious and has a much too high ceiling, with soft lighting around the ceiling corners. The floor is covered in thick grey carpet, all leading up to the biggest bed Louis' ever seen. Black sheets and black pillowcases of what looked to be the softest material ever manufactured.

The entire left region of the room had the wall replaced with a panoramic window, a glass shield to protect them as the view of everything dawned through it. The curtains were drawn for now, concealing such beauties of nature. A door to the right was cracked open, revealing a sliver of an expensive en-suite bathroom. 

Louis first toed off his shoes and set them aside by the pair of boots behind the door, letting his socks scrape the carpet as he moved further into the room. Curiosity got the better of him when he reached a set of double doors made of mirrored glass, letting him stare back at his own bitten reflection. Ashamed, he ducked his head and stepped past the foreboding images into the grand closet.

Shelves hung clothing in colour coordination up from wall to wall, cupboards containing more expensive items. He saw a selection of watches and one chain with a cross on it, next to the rack for shoes. Edward had to be a madman or fanatic for him to have this many shoes. Louis had to pick something he'd wear after a thorough shower, the best possible gift he's been given all month.

He goes towards the mobile racks that look to belong in some rockstar's wardrobe trailer. There is a selection of sweatpants in the Nike and Adidas brand organised on hangers. Louis feels the material on the first one, dark grey and with two little rope strings at the front. He pulls it off the hanger and drops the quilt from his shoulders onto the floor. 

For a shirt he goes to the second mobile rack, choosing a navy Nike shirt that hung down to his thighs. The controversy of brandnames, the two biggest in sporting wear, made him giggle to himself as he held them up together. He made a quick trip to the bathroom after laying the clothes out on the bed, struck dumb by how spotless the state of it was.

Colognes and aftershaves were lined neatly by the bathroom counter, the same distance apart under the brightly lit mirror. Louis avoided his reflection at any chance and moved to the more than _large_ shower. He turned the handle and let the water spray out at him, wetting his face and dampening his carefree grin.

Stepping out of his clothes, Louis switches the light off and folds the pile up on the floor to be shoved into his backpack. Thinking this all isn't his one bit chips away at his heart so he avoids pondering over it. His shower is the best he's ever had, a time to himself where he got to use expensive body gel and come out smelling like lavender. He feels squeaky clean from head to toe and rinses off to extend the time before using a fluffy white towel to dry himself.

Edward's body lotion smelt awful to him, too much like Old Spice to be appealing. Louis skips moisturising altogether and pulls on the clothing he picked out with a pair of boxer briefs he took from Edward's collection. The freshly laundered cotton fabric feels so delicate and comforting on his skin, a little flushed and tingling.

Louis doesn't get into bed until he starts to hear the laziest crickets outside and the thermostat chills his skin enough for him to need the warmth. The sheets are silky smooth and exactly like the pillowcases that cradle the side of his head to make him feel like he's on a cloud. However gigantic the mattress may be, Louis feels a little sunken into it so it frames his body ideally.

He looks at the alarm clock that's glaring back at him and wonders what paid for a home this extravagant.

  
* * * * *  


At three in the morning, Edward comes home with a girl. Neither Harry or Marcel were surprised to see her, solemn and seemingly worn down to the bone in her stilettos and trench coat.

"Spending the night again?" Marcel antagonises the elder triplet when they're both in the kitchen for different purposes.

"Yes." Edward's eyes narrow in the direction of his brother. "She will continue to do so regardless of your feelings toward her."

Marcel's jaw screwed shut to a clench, cheeks hollowing out with how hard he gritted his teeth. "Louis' in your room."

A characteristic smirk developed on Edward's features behind the barrier of a water bottle. It irked Marcel and he knew it very well. "Good."

Before Marcel could retaliate with some subordinate comment of his about not hurting Louis which he'd be wasting his breath on, Edward leaves the kitchen in favour of showing their guest to a spare room and leaping up the stairs in bounds. He comes to his bedroom door and opens it cautiously to prevent creaking, slipping through a spacious crack. 

Louis is asleep or trying to feign being so right in the middle of his bed, curve of his petite body giving a personality to an otherwise empty structure. Edward removes his shoes and carefully makes his way over to the side of the bed he always claimed. He studied Louis' dozing features. Soft skin and twitching fingers, parted lips as a gateway for the faintest sounds.

Edward leaned into him with as much stealth as he could muster, cupping Louis' cheek and connecting their lips for a small breath. As he intended to pull away, Louis stirred and his huff of air fell onto Edward's lips. Half closed as his eyes were, Louis rolled onto his back and smiled tiredly at Edward.

"Hello, sweetlips." Edward chuckled when he got a yawn and murmured response. He tried to stop Louis from sitting up. "Sleep, Lou. Don't get up."

Louis didn't listen and got up with a short stretch, welcomed when Edward allowed him to rest against his arm. He was still very much sleepy but preferred Edward's shoulder for a pillow rather than an actual one. Small fingers, thin and deft as they were, danced up the inside of Edward's bicep. 

"I-I-..-" Louis mentally chastised himself. He's been practising this line all night to prevent stuttering. "I tried w-waiting for you."

Edward was thrilled with this and showed it as such by placing a kiss on Louis' cheekbone. "There was no need, sweetlips."

The boy shrugs helplessly and wraps both hands around Edward's straining bicep, delicacy of his palms and wrists on the bulging muscle prominent through tattooed skin. "I-I wanted to."

"You are such a good boy, baby." Edward felt Louis lay his head down on his shoulder and absentmindedly nuzzle his neck. "However, even good boys have to sleep."

Louis' lips quirk against Edward's throat. One of his hands go to wrap around the man's thumb and hold on, breathing calmly as sleep entices him again. "Will you sleep h-here?"

"I will." Edward regards Louis' hand connected to his. "This is my bed, sweetlips."

Humming, Louis accepts it as fact. He's the most comfortable and exhausted he's been in most of his conscious year; Edward could recite that the sky is pink and the night's only lover and Louis would believe him. 

"I see-" Edward pinches the sleeve of the shirt Louis wore. "-you've sparked some controversy amongst my clothing."

Louis kept his giggle a secret although a little more awake at present. "I-I didn't mean to."

"Of course you didn't." Edward tasted once more the dip of Louis' temple with his lips. "Go to sleep now, baby. You've been awake long enough."

Edward left the boy to his own devices for the thirty minutes it took him to get ready for bed. He found Louis' clothes from beside his school bag and tossed it in the hamper instead.

After a shower he simply pulled on some faded joggers and got into bed behind Louis, who was actually fast asleep with small heaves from his chest. Edward put an arm on either side of his head to lean down and give him a kiss he'll never know of before retracting. Louis fitted like the remaining piece of a lost puzzle against him, smaller enough to be tucked in ideally under Edward's chin.

  
* * * * *  


Louis wouldn't be caught dead in a bed other than his own, that's a _principle_ that he's lived by all his life until this moment. He's redone the process of unearthing the reason behind it when he's being attacked by evasive hands aimed at tickling him as punishment for all his crimes. 

Edward discovered that Louis is ticklish in his sleep and has since been simply torturing the boy with premeditated strikes every two seconds. Intent aside, he got Louis partially on his lap to avoid and dodge other targets. He's laughing freely in the late morning glow, Edward grinning on his own from witnessing such splendour. 

"I've been wanting to see this part of you from the moment I laid eyes on you." Edward confesses, trapping Louis by his waist with both arms and a fiercely intense stare burdening the boy's gaze. 

Louis' forehead rested against his, cradled by foreign arms and still trying to slow his breathing. "I-It's nothing special."

Edward shook his head and found an exposed plane of Louis' hip, pulling his shirt down to cover it immediately. " _You_ are special and what would you like for breakfast, sweetlips?"

Prior to Louis shaking his head in rejection, Edward taps his lips with his forefinger to challenge that denial. Louis' eyes are bluest when he's just woken up and utterly ruined Edward's neat bedding by no fault of his own. 

"I-I want to-" He battled with the sentence to have it make sense. "C-Can we eat downstairs please?"

Smug, Edward hauled Louis up onto his knees. "You want to see my brothers again, baby?"

Louis blushed but didn't deny it. Edward wasn't miffed about it either, rather more satisfied. He hummed in thought and thumbed over Louis' protruding ribcage. Being at eye-level with Louis' tummy was a temptation of his, what could make him cross paths with a stray and sinning worshipper.

"Can I kiss you here?" He asked, dragging his nail across Louis' pudge. "I want to kiss you here, baby."

Louis' subconscious screamed at him to say no, cover himself up and ball up in a corner somewhere to regret it all. He can't mutter any words however, no voice leaving his opened mouth except a shocked gasp when suddenly Edward's cold lips meet the skin above his belly button. It destabilises his nervous system and leaves him lost to a shudder, a soft whimper floating to Edward's ear.

Edward had to pull himself away by force, a frown etched onto his brow and eyes scorching when they met Louis'. The boy was near panting, giving Edward's black mind to run with more fantasies than it deserved. 

"I will be gone for the entire day, sweetlips." He says, guarded but stern. "You will be with Harry as Marcel will be coming with me."

Louis hears this and brightens with the thought of spending all day in Harry's company, especially since they were being given permission rather than running off. "Okay."

They separate for Edward's morning routine. He goes into the bathroom for a shower and shave while Louis wanders about the room aimlessly. Not feeling like he should remain obediently stationary, the boy enters the wonderland of a closet and tries to find things he hadn't seen last night.

There's an inanimate warmth that cloaks him from head to toe, oddly fragranced like Edward. He can still feel the steel grip of the man's arms around him and hugged himself as he shuffled around. The watches, mighty in size and price, were laid out on an open display. Louis picked one up and it was too heavy for one to merely wear on the wrist. Rollex or not, it was madness.

The most intriguing item in Edward's closet was the cross necklace. It had a little black gemstone embedded in the centre where the two strokes met, and the pendant was a heavy weight in Louis' hand. 

"That-" Edward's voice interrupts him and nearly surprises Louis into dropping the object of value. "-our parents had custom made for us."

Louis saw him standing at the closet entrance with a towel around his hips and his hair wet, sticky ringlets dripping water onto the black ink of his shoulders. Formidable as he may be, Edward never looked so harmless in his life. The tattoos weren't half as off-putting as when Louis first met him even though they were on full view now.

"J-Just one?" Louis questions, diverting his attention back to the jewellery item. 

"No." He hears Edward chuckle and stepping forth, finally coming into view at the mirror where Louis stood. "We each have one. Mine is black and you can ask my brothers about theirs today."

Obliging, Louis nods and let's Edward's hand come around the front to take the necklace from him. "Why don't you w-wear it?"

"I'd rather not run the risk of losing it." Edward replies, body not touching Louis even though they must be a hair's breath apart. "Perhaps I will give it to someone who will keep it safe for me."

Louis agreed to this with a nod. If it meant so much to Edward, the chain ought to be kept where it will be most guarded in its precious state. What he didn't expect was for the man to unclasp the hook at the back and bring it up to his neck.

"N-No." Louis resists, pushing the chain away gently. He looks up at Edward in confusion. "N-Not me."

"Why not?" Edward challenges with a quirked brow. 

"I-I'm not family." Louis explains, failing so when Edward tries to put the chain on him again. "Please, don't."

"Sweetlips, look at me." Edward frames Louis' face from jaw to cheek, securing his attention. "This chain is mine and I will give it whomsoever I please."

"But-"

"Hush." Edward wins the war and clips the chain on at Louis' nape, creating goosebumps when he let's the cross lie on Louis' chest.

Louis gets to see his reflection with the newly acquired accessory. The cross was noticeable against his clavicle and cold on his skin, but a reassuring presence anyway. 

Edward flips the cross over to reveal the blackest stone glittering under the attention of the lighting. "Good boys don't argue, baby, and above all you _are_ my good boy."


	8. EIGHT

**_[A/N: This story will contain le Daddy Kink bc I think it to be suitable for the plot.- S xx]_ **

"What are we going to do first, kitten?" Harry based the question off Louis being timidly seated across from him in the vast kitchen interior. 

The boy was picking at a half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs and no longer crispy but instead rigid slices of bacon. Louis had shared a plate with Edward before the latter got up with Marcel to leave, not forgetting to plant a kiss on Louis' forehead before doing so.

"I-I don't know." Louis looks up from porcelain to glowing green eyes, laced with humour as Harry's mind whirled with possibility. 

"The opportunities are endless." Harry says to him, dumping dishes into the sink for the housekeeper and getting out a bottle of iced water. "Have you showered yet?"

Louis first glanced down at his attire, still what he had slept in the night prior. He shook his head and examined the condensation of the bottle in Harry's hand. 

"Then I propose you go do that while I get some things in order." Harry came around the corner and his knuckles rapped against the marble surface before they brushed Louis' wrist upon taking the boy's hand. 

Louis accepted the offer of sliding his palm into Harry's and being helped down from the stool he sat on. It was high enough to prevent his feet from ever touching the ground. "Thank you."

Harry beamed and presented an ever-so charming persona when he delicately kissed Louis' knuckles. They were released and he suffered the loss for all of two seconds while Louis remembered something Marcel gave back to him at breakfast.

"What's this?" Harry's brow formed one unit as he watched Louis take out a set of paper pieces, evenly cut and printed. "Tickets?"

Louis smiles and holds them out with a sudden jolt, a smile teasing his lips into a smothered grin. "Y-Yeah."

Taking the pair of tickets from his companion, Harry reads the title of the movie and how they are non-refundable up until a certain date. Instantly, it becomes a dead giveaway that his younger brother had given this to Louis. 

"You want to go?" He asks the boy who is studying his facial cues for an emotive response.

Nodding in trepidation, Louis hopes that Harry will be open to a little cinema visit peradventure. He certainly thinks it could be a fun activity before Harry whisks him off to wherever the man has planned.

"Alright then." Harry can simply never look into Louis' eyes, so pure and void of flaws, just to deny him _anything_ in the next breath. "We'll go together."

Like magic, Louis' smile becomes the most dominating feature on his face. It is both beautiful and breathtakingly ethereal, causing Harry's lips to part a bit and for his mind to empty so that the image can be memorised. A head of distance stood between their faces, and Louis had to tilt his head backward to see the taller male at all but such a sight in an isolated system was magnificent.

Something taints that gorgeous apparel of Louis' smile. "I-I don't have a-any clothes."

Harry mentally snaps his fingers together as an idea is bred. "Use mine."

Louis' lips become rounded as he tries to process this. Could he? There's no way he can go home with his step-mother still there, yet his father isn't. 

"Or...-" Harry trails off as something sparks, notorious and unwarranted by the doubt in Louis' curiosity. "We could do something more exciting?"

The question puzzles Louis but said phase doesn't last longer than a minute because Harry's dimples are out, arming his grin with charming youthful traces. He grabs Louis' hand with one of his larger paws, shoving the movie tickets into the back pocket of his sweatpants. Shirtless as he may be, it does not veer Harry off his course to acquire a shirt when he starts leading Louis towards the door.

He first tries tugging back his wrist, to free his hand, but Harry's grip is solid while he grabs his keys. They make it out the front door with a solid slam to the structure, Louis with a whimper on his lips after the loud reverberating sound. He was still in socks and Harry bare footed, crossing a small patch of grass to his car.

Louis only gets released when Harry comes to the passenger door and yanks it open. 

Harry's hand slides down to Louis' waist by accident or not, distractedly nudging him in the direction of the seat. "Get in."

"W-Where are we going?" He asks first, already climbing up onto the warm leather seat and looking across at Harry.

"Your house." Harry closes his door and Louis has to stew in his own miserable anxiety, chewing his lip persistently, until the man gets in next to him.

"M-M-My house?" He flinches at merely mentioning the personal Hell that evolves everytime Melinda is alone in it.

"Yes." Harry releases the hand-brake and eases out of the driveway, pulling the console between them up to get out a pack of gum. "We're going to sneak into your room and get you some clothes."

Louis' heart rate elevates at the plan suggested, panic widening his eyes and him turning in his seat to hug his knees. "N-No, please. I don't w-wanna go t-there."

"Hush, kitten." Harry reaches over and squeezes Louis' hand over his knee. "It'll be fun."

No argument is allowed to be presented for the rest of the trip. Louis wallows in silent sufferance while Harry pulls into the street his home is on. He takes a gulp of air that stings the back of his throat and dries his tongue, eyes bereft as they wander from postbox to gate.

Harry parks in front of the neighbour's house and leaves the key in the ignition, despite it being so risky. He hops out after pecking Louis' temple for reassurance and opening the boy's door for him. Being a perfect gentleman unnerved Louis due to their situation.

"Don't be afraid of anything, kitten." Harry said to him while he was practically towed around the corner of their open yard. 

No sign of life came as a result of a creak from Harry bumping into their gate. Louis' breath was prisoner in his lungs and his steps were scared, nervous and unsure. He followed closely behind Harry but never stopped glancing at the door expecting a horrid face to appear from the entry way.

His room window is just above them, the window itself slightly open as he'd left it a day ago. Harry checks the mobile ladder attached by vines and roses to the exterior of the house. He rattles it slightly but declares it safe and sturdy.

No other people were on the road yet, plaguing their devious plan with threats. Louis doubts anyone passing by would care that he's breaking into his own house with an accomplice who hadn't worn shoes and a shirt. However dodgy it looked, it was being done anyway.

"Climb up first." Harry encourages with a gentle pat to Louis' hip. The mischief in his eye never expired. "Go on, kitten."

Louis bit his lip and stared at the shaky ladder, uncertain and afraid. "W-What if I fall?"

Harry's expression softened at the sound of Louis' voice and the sight of his nervous blue eyes. "I'm right here, kitten. I'll catch you."

"B-But-" Louis looks around them yet still no one is there. "-what i-if you miss?"

Harry chuckles to himself, leaning in close to kiss Louis on the forehead. "I never miss, kitten."

Courage is a cowardly thing and never came to Louis until he was two feet off the ground. It wasn't much of a distance to climb but regardless, getting up onto his house's veranda roof was madness. He took the steps one at a time and clung to the wooden ladder whenever it rattled, but it didn't fall and he made it to his window. 

Glancing over the edge again, Louis got his the skin around his fingernails to bleed from how desperately tight he was gripping anything to hold onto. "A-Are you coming?"

Harry smirked from the ground and just nodded up at him before taking one last shot of a scan over his shoulder. He climbs up swiftly with minimal noise and Louis admires his skill, although they both remain silent on the rooftop awaiting a response from inside the house. They're inches apart and Harry's minty breath fans over Louis' wet lips, the latter averting his gaze to anywhere else other than the green orbs gauging out his soul.

"Ready?" Harry holds out his hand and Louis takes it, too far gone into the thrill of a mock heist to _not_ smile so broadly and leap through the open window with him. 

Louis lands with a tumble after he trips on the window ledge, taking Harry down with him in the fall. He lands with an _'oomph'_ atop Harry's chest, pinning him down unintentionally. Palms flat on the man's pectoral region and a blush so bright it dominates his facial features, Louis notices Harry's hands on his waist. 

"S-Sorry." He mumbles gutlessly, trying to lift himself up only to have Harry hold on tighter.

"Give me this moment with you, my kitten." Harry's arms slide fluidly across Louis' back to lock him in place. He finds solace in the boy's presence so near to his. "I may never get one alone with you again."

Louis is stunned silent by the proposal and has to remain stuck on Harry's torso for a much too long while. At last, he feels the steel cage around him loosen and the intensity behind Harry's focus on him lessen.

"I'm sorry, kitten." A knuckle brushes away the frizzy state of his fringe. "I frightened you, didn't I?"

Louis goes to shake his head no but instead he frowns and gulps, not brave at all about the fact that Harry is kissing him. A pair of lips, plump and cherry, cause the strain in Harry's neck as the man does all he can to maintain their kiss even when Louis starts to squirm. It's not entirely resistance but it can't all be consent either.

"As apologetic as I am-" Harry's lips parted ways from Louis' with a tiny whimper from the latter partner, troubled gaze lifting from the ground. "-I can't seem to resist you."

Harry seems to swoop back in to connect their mouths but this time Louis pulls away, a hand flattened firmly over Harry's heart. He looks into those blazing emeralds and whispers, conflicted so deeply that his heart feels heavy. "Edward."

"No, kitten." Harry shakes his head and steals one more kiss, quick and full of Louis' taste on his wet lips. "He knows."

Louis, frightened, dodges Harry's evasive lips to cover them so that he may speak. "W-What?"

Depraved, Harry is far more concerned with why he's _desperate_ for Louis' kisses more than concerning himself with the lies he's reciting to Louis. "I told him this morning that today would be the day I earn a kiss from you."

A distasteful look comes over Louis' features. He isn't game to be played for and won. He _isn't_ going to allow himself to be treated like a plaything. 

"E-Edward?" Louis' throat is clogged, unclear. "What d-did he s-say?"

Harry doesn't reply with words and instead steals another kiss from Louis' so soft lips, parted and breathless. He cares not for the stunned look or chills he leaves in his wake. "This happened."

He brings his hand up to the side of his head, fingers crooked and poised to brush his hair aside. Harry successfully tosses the wavy lengths of curls onto the other side, revealing peeks of pale white scalping. That's not all one gets to see though, and Louis feels utterly _sick_ looking at the long red gash travelling down a hidden path. 

It had to have been bleeding at some point but the scab was partially sealed now, protecting what dried blood remained. The instrument used for the blow had to be something that didn't do much as no bruises as formed, so Harry wasn't _hit_ but no one's to say it still wasn't _abuse._

"O-Oh my-" He gasps, blocking the horror by covering his mouth. "Oh my God, _Harry_."

Louis doesn't know shuffling closer to try and salvage something or moving away for his own sanity's sake will be more beneficial. He struggles with it and feels so awful staring that he begins to feel like the monster, the cross pendant against his bare skin burning right through him.

"I-I'm so sorry." Louis couldn't stop himself from apologising, throwing his arms around Harry's neck and embracing him tightly. 

A tear rolled down his cheek and onto Harry's shoulder, accomplishing the impossible by marring his tattoos. Harry was thrown but not entirely, wincing at the contact of Louis' tight squeeze. He hugged the boy in his lap back, seeking solace and comfort in the scent marking Louis' neck juncture.

"Don't be sorry." Harry knew that Louis didn't mind him kissing any part of him anymore. "Kitten, don't be upset."

"He-He _hurt_ you and i-it's my fault." Louis' lips were quivering and he sniffled so loudly, pressed right up against Harry. 

"No, kitten. It isn't your fault." Harry rubbed his back from nape to hip, closing his eyes as Louis' presence wrapped itself around him. He felt like a lost soul that's finally been found. "You're my darling _kitten_ and I'd take a beating for you any day."

Louis shook his head and refused, eyes watery and red-rimmed even after Harry thumbed away his tears. "Y-You can't do that. I-I don't want you getting hurt."

Glee filled Harry's tight ribcage. "How about you sleep in my bed tonight?"

Suddenly, Louis was pensive. He chewed his bottom lip while Harry dried off his cheeks with tissue from his nightstand. They were still on the floor, one atop the other. "I-I don't know."

Harry had to save this conversation before it went downhill and Louis slipped through his fingers again. "We're going to be out late tonight, kitten."

Louis' eyes got a bit wide at such a prospect. "We are?"

"Yes." Harry neatened Louis' fringe and kissed his forehead. "I want a fair chance to wake up next to you."

Louis had reservations, more about Edward's character than anything. He was explicitly _horrified_ to imagine brother turning on brother. If he had any siblings, he'd treasure them above the world. Harry brought him back from his thoughts, rubbing circles into his ticklish waist. 

"Agree to this and you will make this the best day of my life." Harry beckoned him closer, bringing their foreheads together and bumping their noses. He tries for another kiss. 

Louis let's him have it.

Their mission of breaking and entering Louis' home was not left futile. He managed to pack some of his clothes and shoes before they heard movement elsewhere in the house and had to make a mad dash for the window again. No experience has been so thrilling for Louis, racing across his own yard with a duffel bag of his belongings. He felt like a thief stealing his own independence back.

  
* * * * *  


Harry's brought him to a place Louis had no idea could exist in a town as little as theirs. They park in the less than spacious parking lot outside a cottage-like building, stout and painted a dull grey. There are bars up on the windows and when Louis hops down onto the crunching gravel, he takes note of the slick oil smell lacing the air.

The first thing Harry ensures is done is taking Louis by the hand, leading the boy around the corner of the building and pausing at the waist-high fence. His smirk is devious.

"We need to jump over." Harry explains, gesturing to the weak gated fence that Louis is scowling at.

Louis shakes his head. "No. I-I can't."

"Of course you can, kitten." Harry is on the other side by merely stepping over, earning the heat in Louis' cheeks because he _really isn't_ that tall. 

He's insistent because jumping over fences is a _felony_ and Louis will _end his life_ before he has to survive in prison. "I-I'll um- wait by the car."

Louis' already spun around to hurriedly make his way back to the SUV but Harry is too desperate about this. To the sound of revving engines and spinning wheels behind him, Harry scoffs amusedly and picks Louis right up into the air. He's not negotiating and tells the squirming boy that with a firm squeeze around his middle.

"You're going to have to behave, kitten. I don't want us both going down." He deposits Louis on the ground only once they're on the other side of the fence, hesitant to do so even then.

Once freed, Louis bows his head and fidgets with the hem of his shirt to hide his pout. He didn't like being manhandled without permission as such drastic motions sometimes made him nauseous, made his skin burn like leather was bound to it under direct sunlight.

When Harry reached for him again, just to unite their hands, he flinched and withdrew quickly. He didn't want to be picked up again.

"Kitten?" Harry's petname for him had to be one of Louis' favourite things to be called. He still didn't like being lifted into the air, regardless of adorable names.

The man caught him by his chin, tilted his head back so he was forced to let himself be seen. Harry's eyes were a palace of mixed emotions. He must have seen the reluctance and need for an escape in Louis' eyes because the next thing he did was hug the boy.

"I'm sorry, kitten." He kicked himself mentally in the gut for doing what he did. "I should have asked first, huh?"

Louis can only nod tightly, silent as ever. He's still fighting to regain control of his panting lungs, the raw suffocation of his trachea making him feel unsteady about himself. Harry is not one to let go of him, not yet.

"Feel better now, kitten?" When Louis nods slowly once more, tucking himself into Harry's chest where it smelt of bare skin and cologne despite the man having finally put clothes on. "Let's go then."

They walk around the isolated corner of the short building to be exposed to a dirt racetrack. Louis can finally jot down the unexplained revving and screeching to that of motors and engines. He stares in awe at one facet then the next, the circular road winding around stumpy hills and whacking dust into the air.

Breathing in the fumes made his eyes water, especially due to the impromptu garage set up to their left where a car was being hoisted and maintained. Harry was leading him closer to that gathering of unfamiliar, burly faces but Louis kept glancing towards the single speeding racer whipping around without fault on the track. 

It was slick black and reflecting the rays of the sun, the driver behind the wheel having excellent control over the vehicle. 

"W-Who's that?" He asks Harry, curiously peering up against the sunlight at the man.

Harry smiles at him first before following the line of vision to the driver. "I'm not sure, kitten."

Louis keeps looking. He's obviously fascinated and Harry finds it so endearing to witness; the wideness of Louis' eyes and the slight circular shape to his thin pink lips. The boy doesn't even notice when they've come to a stop just outside the garage entrance.

The driver on the track summons a sort of freedom that Louis feels flutter in his gut, giving his core warmth and security. He wants to be that liberated one day. Harry's talking to someone but none of the words that are exchanged become coherent to his awed self. 

The target of his eye makes a spin around the sharpest bend on the track, not faltering in its route. Louis takes an accidental step forward and Harry winds an arm around his front to keep him near. His broad bicep stays pinned to Louis' torso, fingers curled over his soft hip to stabilise him. Involuntarily, Louis is fully turned away from the communication of people and holds onto Harry's forearm for no reason.

"Kitten." Harry disturbs his admiration with a little pinch to his hip. "Are you up for meeting some friends of mine?"

Louis realises that he's been rude this entire time to the strangers that have welcomed them. He stops watching the charming motion of the race car and looks away towards the garage. It's like an elastic snap back to reality and Harry is very accommodating.

There are a few other estranged individuals present under the shabby roof. One is cleaning a spanner with a rag, one strap of his overall unhooked and a cigarette drooping from between his dark lips. He looks young enough and smiles at Louis, friendly and polite.

"This is Angus." Harry has his lips near Louis' ear, asserting his presence to relax him.

"Hi." The man himself waves with two fingers behind the stained rag. "You can call me French."

Louis frowns in confusion at this. Harry chuckles into his ear and shakes his head mockingly. "He won't be talking to you for long, French."

Angus has dirty blond hair and a bandana tied through it, grease covering his fingertips and a smile that's probably got him out of lots of trouble. He makes a challenging sound of contempt when Harry says that. "He's Edward's boy, innit? I wouldn't get too close, H."

H? Louis thinks this could be one of his favourite nicknames even though the thought is irrelevant. He's back to stealing glances at the car on the track, brought back once again when Harry squeezes his waist gently with both hands. 

"That's TJ." He introduces the second person when Louis looks back to their group, gesturing to the one working under the hood of the vehicle. 

TJ lifts his head and nods in acknowledgement. He's got a prickly chin with darker than brown hair, definitely the oldest of the three pre-existing people here. His abandoned beer has fizzled out on the floor and spilled over, messing the leg of his pants. 

"This is TJ's place." Harry explains the scary man's purpose here. He straightens up a little and Louis is apprehensive, looking at everything with intense intrigue. "The track is his too. He let's us go out on it all the time."

Louis nods and sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. "I-It's nice here."

"Yeah?" Harry is _thrilled_ that Louis has taken to a place he enjoys revisiting, is grin showing that emotion off. He even pecks Louis' temple as a means of gratitude. 

"What did he say?" Person number three had disappeared temporarily through a door and reappeared with a few iced bottles. 

"This-" Harry accepts the offer of alcohol with one hand, the other not releasing Louis for the life of him. "-is Justin."

Justin gives Louis a chance to see and turn down the beer himself, Harry not answering for him. Louis is leaning against his chest and that renders a mood of completion like no other. Justin has tattoos edging onto his neck. One is of an apple and it shifts everytime he swallows, unnerving Louis a little bit.

"Justin has no purpose here." Angus says, dropping the spanner and taking a beer to uncap with a set of keys. 

"I wouldn't say that." Comes a _female_ voice from somewhere to Louis' left and his head snaps in that direction so fast his brain turns a little fuzzy. 

She has a helmet under the leather jacketed arm, the glass slip pulled over it to reveal the space for eyes to see. She had her long, pin-straight hair pulled back into a hair-tie and blond streaks stood out against the dark shade. The unnamed female was pretty, with freckles on her tanned neck and deep brown eyes.

Louis watches her make her way around them, slap Justin across the face for a catcall on his part and almost immediately slip under TJ's arm. _Oh._

"The final component of this clan will be Emilia." Harry says carefully, rewarding Louis' patience with a chaste kiss to the cheek. "This is Louis." 

"Pleasure to meet you." Emilia gives TJ's stubbly cheek a kiss and smiles brightly at their guest. "Harry never introduces us to his other friends."

"He's ashamed of us." Justin hops up on the counter by the cash register. Shortly, Emilia joins him after stealing TJ's second untouched beer. 

Louis has the opportunity to look back and sees that the car he'd been watching was parked off now, the driver's door gaping. Emilia had been the one driving.

"He's a quiet one." Angus points out, Louis remaining unaffected as he feels Harry tense up behind him.

"Leave Harry's boyfriend alone, French." Emilia flicks the beer bottle cap in Angus' direction. 

Angus throws his head back and laughs boastfully as he gets a another smack upside the head by Harry this time. Louis feels the jerky motion against his shoulder blade. 

"He's not Harry's boyfriend, Emmy." Angus explains to her from his spot by the radiator. "He's Edward's actually."

"Really?" Emilia looks at the boy pointedly in _Harry's_ arms who looks as calm as can be.

"They're not official." Harry justifies loudly, cutting Louis out of his reverie of thoughts. 

Emilia notices Louis' continued focus on the track and her car. "Looks like he wants to go out there."

Harry's thumb brushes over Louis' hip lightly, creasing and smoothing the cotton fabric of the boy's shirt. Louis looks to be hypnotised by the sight beyond their tiny union.

"Kitten?" He asks softly, meeting those stunning blue eyes. "Do you want to see the track?"

Louis doesn't get a chance to answer that _yes, he'd definitely want to go_ before Justin is volunteering to accompany him. "I could take him." 

"No." Harry snaps, bitter at first but easily mellowing out to his old self again. 

"I'll take him." Emilia takes one swig of the beer and sets it down before jumping down from the counter. "He's already uncomfortable around you idiots. Come on, Louis."

She dropped her helmet off by TJ and had it tossed back by her boyfriend when she past him. Louis admired the confidence she walked with, extricating him from Harry to walk him onto the track. Her strides were wide and dug into the dirt beneath her boots, long purposeful steps that spoke wonders for her emotional strength.

Louis was with her two seconds after glancing back at Harry's unsure expression, and he hasn't felt insecure at all. Her aura was soothing and he didn't feel inadequate next to someone as beautiful as she was.

"Do you like driving?" Emilia asks him as they come to a stop by her car, a serviced BMW with exceptional handling capabilities.

Louis _won't_ stutter. He clears his throat first. "No. I never....got my licence."

Emilia hums, gesturing to the passenger seat. "Get in."

If Louis hadn't looked up where dust was floating in the wind and he heard a commotion, he wouldn't have seen Harry trying to communicate something to him. Angus had a hand on his pectoral, discouraging him from storming across the path. Harry looked uneasy but Louis _wanted_ to do this and Emilia already had the engine revving.

He gets in quickly, releasing one exhale afterwards once the door closed to his side and Emilia held up her hand. "Well done."

He got to high five her because she did the opposite and encouraged him to do as he wanted. 

"Put your belt on, love." She told him first.

Once he hurried to do it, Emilia pulled out of the informal parking spot and spun around in one swift circle to change directions. Louis had to grip the edge of his seat and do _a lot_ to contain his laughter. It was _riveting_ to be in this seat beside a professional driver as she slid onto the rocky track. 

The road was bumpy and full of questionable bends, one ramp that had a too steep drop. She kicked up dirt around the front and it seemed to be for dramatic effect as they had passed the garage structure and Harry looked to be fitted with rage. Louis wasn't even scared yet, feeling far away yet so near. 

"Having fun?" She asked, switching gears and accelerating onto a straight path. The tyres slipped and she took it in her stride, moving with the motion until she returned to the right rhythm. 

"Yeah." He answered a little loudly, both companions breaking into laughter after.

Louis hasn't known her more than an hour and finds comfort in the confines of her car. Emilia watches him let loose in his little adorable way that's harmless and impossible to be reckless. She feels pity for the boy who has gotten caught up in the web of the triplets. 

"I'm glad!" She has to shout to be heard above the screeching of the rubber tyres gripping desperately to the ground as she whirled. "Would you take the wheel?"

"No!" He replies, scandalized with the most magnificent blue eyes staring at her. They were alive because of humour, of a new sense he's developed. _Freedom_. "I could never!"

It's a miracle to Louis that he can't stutter, even when he normally would. Emilia smiles at him and sits back in her seat, finally slowing down once they're back at square one.

"Well-" Emilia pulls on the handbrake and takes her helmet from the back. "-there and back again, I suppose."

Louis looks at her, unblinkingly. "T-The Hobbit?"

He's a lot saddened to hear that his stutter is back, but there's a phenomenal reassurance welling in his chest because he knows that _there's a way out_.

"Yeah." Emilia turns a little in her seat, seemingly surprised that Louis knew the reference. "You've watched the movies?"

"The b-books too." He excitedly answers, then scrunches his brow. "W-Well, I read the books."

Emilia giggles and sorts out the stray strands of hair that's escaped her tie. "I never thought one of Harry's friends would know. The guys tease me about it all the time."

Louis wrung his fingers together and smiled sheepishly. "M-My friends too. They don't mean it though."

His car is being yanked open shortly after that, before Emilia or he could expand their conversational rights. Louis tries and fails to not squeak when he's being brought out by his middle. The arms around that region were strong and firmly possessive, encasing his slender figure to support him as he stood. 

Harry turned him around before any fight could break out and Louis saw a whirlpool of tortured emotions swimming around in the green of his eyes. He wanted to squirm out of Harry's hold after that when he noticed how tightly screwed the man's jaw was and how ablaze his narrowed eyes were. Harry was _angry._

"What were you _thinking_?" Harry hisses down at him, framing both sides of Louis' face as he checks for injury.

Louis is shocked by this outburst. He gasps when Harry's grip gets too tight and he feels pressured into sinking into the ground. "I-I had fun."

"No." Harry grits, growing madder by the minute. "That was fucking _dangerous_."

Louis defends himself by shaking his head but Harry caught his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Too much strength went into the tightness and it stung. " _Ow_. Y-You're hurting me."

It rattled Harry's demons some more to hear him say that. The man raked his fingers through his hair, not wincing when it came to his slit skin. "I was so _worried_ , Louis. That was irresponsible."

"Harry." It's Emilia's turn to try and intervene.

 _"Stay out of it."_ Harry points a finger at her, seething with heat flushed under his skin. He turns back to Louis, a beast hidden behind a mask. 

"H-Harry." Louis tries, lost for words and broken for a safety net but he _tries_. "D-Don't be a-angry. Please, I-"

" _Don't_ be angry?!" He exclaims, making Louis flinch. "You could have gotten hurt, Louis!"

"I-I wasn't." Louis shrinks back on himself. He tries to keep his lip from wobbling.

"If something happened to you while I wasn't there...-" Harry clenches his jaw and feels a fire race through his veins that fuel his desire to break _anything._

He doesn't appreciate the prospect of Louis being out there _at risk_ and after he's certain there are no injuries, reels Louis in for the tightest embrace. That's all that happens because Louis is ripped away just as suddenly, his hand taken by Harry's and tugged along a way back to an exit.

"We're leaving." Is all the explanation he gets as Harry pulls him away from the car, the vessel that gave him a glimpse of internal peace.

  
* * * * *  


Harry is silent the whole drive back and cools off with the AC blasting at the lowest degree. His knuckles turn page white against the leather steering wheel, his aggravation levels skyrocketing so high that it's _buzzing_ inside his head.

Louis feels the anger radiating off Harry but he still doesn't know why it is so. He keeps to himself, quiet and picking at the strap of his duffel bag. It was destroying him that he made Harry so angry, now that he's back to his stuttering and insecure self. The highway turns into the street that the Styles residence sat on and Louis could not run out of the SUV fast enough.

"Fuckin' Christ." Harry mutters after slamming the car door shut and grabbing Louis by wrist, dragging him back. "Be careful."

Louis bowed his head and waited for Harry to finish. His duffel bag was taken from him before he could argue without words, and his purpose was moot as he walked into the mansion. He jumped when Harry dropped his bag by the door heavily, but something miserable in his chest melted when he heard another voice floating through the house.

"Fucking _get_ here or the deal is off the table." Edward is taking off with someone that doesn't reply so he's probably on the phone. 

Harry disappears past the foyer into the kitchen while Louis takes cautious steps towards it. He finally halts at the breakfast counter, cold marbled edge digging into his hip, when he sees Edward with his back to him. He is on the phone, sighing in exasperation at whoever yelled back at him. 

Besides that, he's dealing with an actual person that Louis' never seen before. It's a police officer standing there with a wad of cash impatiently. Louis' eyes widen at the sight of an actual armed weapon tucked into his belt. He stands silently by the kitchen doorway where Harry is taking things hastily and slamming the refrigerator door. Louis winced more than once.

Edward hangs up while the person on the other line is talking and mutters an apology to the officer. He's still not looking in Louis' direction but that's okay because the boy witnesses some odd transaction between law enforcer and Edward. Harry's gone now, with his bottle of water and nearly cracked cell phone. Louis looks at him with worried eyes but the man is too pissed to care.

The police officer gets a black bag of something crinkly in exchange for the money. Before he can take off, Edward stops him to deftly count the cash and send him off again. Louis is curious about this entire ordeal but won't ask one word to clear it up. 

Edward does see him at last, standing awkwardly in a corner by the kitchen doorway, and smirks. He tucks the money away first and makes his way over to Louis, dropping a kiss on the boy's forehead and wrapping him up in his arms. Louis can close his eyes and pretend that all is well when he's like this.

"Hello, sweetlips." Edward is gentle when tilting Louis' chin up to kiss his lips. It's soft and a light press of his lips. "How has your day been?"

Louis shakes his head and hides in Edward's shoulder. He hears a chuckle and feels Edward rubbing his back comfortingly. 

"I'm only home for a minute, baby. I have somewhere to be." Edward pulls Louis' shirt down over the curve of his behind.

Louis acknowledges this with a nod and a sniffle. His eyes are still closed as he sighs tiredly. 

"Hey now." Edward pats his hip for attention. "What happened?"

Edward silently asks for permission to hold Louis more securely by sliding his hands down to his hips and squeezing. Louis wraps his arms around the man's neck and is effortlessly lifted, his legs closing around Edward's hips. 

The other male is having none of his silence and insists on having Louis' eyes to look at. He sees how torn they are, how conflicted. "Why is my princess so upset?"

Louis can smile but only wryly. "I-I'm not a princess."

Edward rolls his eyes for exaggeration and tightens his hold on Louis' thighs, warm and soft feeling of flesh in his hands. "Did my brother hurt you?"

Louis shakes his head. He stays propped up against Edward, a lonely island of two people. 

"I know he did something." Edward continues, basking in Louis' scent that's still so warm and innocent. He's going to find out what his foolish sibling did later. "I have to go now, sweetlips."

Louis makes to separate their bodies but Edward holds on a bit longer. The boy raises his eyebrow at this behaviour.

Edward cups his right cheek and thumbs over Louis' outstanding cheekbones. The boy was so sweet and little against him, a soothing presence to the ruckus inside Edward's mind. "I want a kiss from my princess."

Louis is so reassured by the dimpled smirk Edward is giving him that he finds it in himself to giggle even when Edward's lips chase after his for a kiss. He turns away and feels the hard press of them on his cheek, his breathless laughter filling the sound carried by breeze above their heads.

Their situation becomes involved with too much movement for Edward to trust that he won't drop Louis. He chooses to support the boy in his arms by holding him up against the nearest wall, careful not to break any boundaries. 

"Come on, baby." Edward's hands slip to Louis' inner thighs, they feel like a _dream_. 

Louis gets a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "N-No."

"No?" Edward pinches Louis' thigh to hear him gasp and feel his hot, little body moving against his. Their close proximity was _intoxicating._

Cheekily or not, Louis bites his lip and shakes his head. He was a delectable little sight all for Edward to behold in this short space of time he had with the boy. Edward groaned and lost a battle of restraint, leaning in to force Louis' neck to crane and sink his teeth into the supple skin exposed to him. 

Louis was hot and bothered in no time, hands doing nothing as they push at Edward's shoulders. Eventually he stopped when the sensations rooted from his neck became _divine_ and his eyelids fluttered until they closed. He enjoyed the feeling of Edward's lips on his skin, revelling in how reverent it felt. 

"Fuck." Edward sounded like he was worshipping Louis, rounding his hands around Louis' thighs and hiking them firmly up on his hips. "You're _mine,_ baby."

Edward was releasing hot puffs of air onto his flushed skin, sucking on the reddened skin to draw blood to the underside of the surface. His tongue jabbed at the sore skin and he suffered in not letting ever mad thought control his actions. The words, the heat, the small space they took advantage of. Louis mewled helplessly and felt the skin start to throb with a bruise building.

"P-Please." He whimpered, not knowing what he wanted. "D-Daddy."


	9. NINE.

**_[A/N: Excited? I'm so excited. - S xx]_ **

**"P-Please." He whimpered, not knowing what he wanted. "D-Daddy."**

Edward did all but cry out to the deity who brought him this boy when the sinful words fell on his ear. He screwed his eyes shut and broke all promise of personal space, eliminating the distance between them to press their chests flush against each other. Space and time paused for Louis, fear flooding his system after the endearment slipped from his lips. He lost the cause for his mood and whimpered from fright when Edward dug his nails deeper into his thighs.

"You're my good boy, sweetlips." Edward rasped, effectively folding Louis in half as he licked over the love-bite he's made. "Daddy's good boy."

Louis sucks in a sharp whistled breath through his teeth at the sound of the familiar word. He grew relaxed at being accepted, meeting Edward's stormy gaze with a soft whine. Edward sealed his lips over Louis', earning access to the boy's mouth. His tongue flicked against the roof his mouth, massaged Louis' wet muscle. 

The urgency of their kiss left the corners of their mouths wet, Louis' fingers tightening harmlessly into Edward's shirt. He was _accepted_ and felt high off the pleasure racing through his veins. Louis loved the new taste on his tongue, an intruding essence plaguing his senses. He never kissed anyone this way, so full of passion and heat. 

"I don't want to leave you. _Fuck._ " Edward rested a palm above Louis' head against the wall, mouth prying itself away from Louis'. He had broken and weakly mended emotions racing through the muddled green of his eyes. 

Louis didn't know what to say so instead he leaned in close with hands encircling Edward's throat and offered his own neck for more attention. 

Edward chuckled and pecked over the mark that was already there. "Not another, baby. I don't want to hurt you."

Accepting this, Louis peered up at Edward with nervous blue eyes. The man was endeared by his sweetness, and gave him one more kiss before their time was temporarily up. He set Louis down on the ground reluctantly. 

"I will be back as early as I can, sweetlips." Edward says to him, laying the promise on Louis' cheekbone with his lips. "Make amends with my brother, okay?"

Louis nods, surprised to hear the request from Edward just before he leaves. "O-Okay."

Edward drew in a long breath and dropped his hand lower on Louis' back, dangerously close to his bottom. Louis looked up at him with a bitten lip and in confusion.

"You started this, sweetlips." Edward roughly nuzzled Louis' neck, exhaling so it tickled the boy's skin. It was enough to make him giggle. "Say it."

Louis fought fruitlessly against Edward's treatment, tightly caged in by two arms around his shoulders. Laughter floods the room, echoing through the house. 

"Say it." Edward chased after his lips and more of his bare skin. Louis was caught between him and the wall, prisoner to the two arms on either side of him. "You're going to make me beg?"

Adorably outraged, Louis shakes his head and desperately tries to redeem himself for thinking he upset Edward. He stretches up on his tiptoes to look into Edward's eyes, their foreheads pressed together. "I-I don't want that."

Edward squeezes his hips, firm and precise. "You're still not saying it, sweetlips."

Louis blushes and tries protecting himself by hiding himself under Edward's chin. "I-I didn't mean t-to say it."

Edward freezes for a moment, grasping the curve of Louis' waist. "What didn't you mean to say, baby?"

Louis pouts because he kept getting tongue tied when he came close to saying it even though he wanted to. "D-Don't make me."

"Shh." Edward kisses Louis' temple. "Do you not want to say it?"

"I-I want to." Louis whispers, soft and unsure. "B-But do you want-"

"Sweetlips." Edward groans as if he's pained. He could claw at sticks and stones and not feel as deprived of sanity as he feels now. "I want you to say it. All the time."

"O-Oh." Louis tips his head back and Edward greets the pink shade of his cheeks with a wink. "Daddy."

"Hmm." Edward hums to sound like he's moaning, burying his face in Louis' neck for one last feel of it. "That's the kind of greeting I expect when I get back. Before my dealings for the day become stale, I must leave you."

Edward parts with Louis after the lightest kiss on his feathery fringe and a smile rendered on both their adoring faces. Louis let's him go with a small wave when they're a distance apart, left afterwards in a vast mansion and nothing to do. 

He first goes to the duffel bag he brought with him, resisting the truth that his strength is menial and drags the object up the stairs after him. Once in Edward's room, the bag is dropped off in the closet and Louis neatly toes off his shoes behind the door. 

Louis doesn't realise he's humming until it comes to tightening the knot of his sweatpants, as he starts doing it to a beat. He pauses mid-rhythm to catch the familiarity of the tune. It's an old Beach Boys song from the sixties and Louis doesn't recall hearing it all day, yet he's humming it now.

Thinking about approaching Harry in this time when the man is upset and radiating distasteful behaviour makes Louis' stomach knot but he knows he has to do it. Tentatively, he makes his way down the hallway in socks shuffling along the freshly vacuumed carpet. It feels weird under his feet, each step cushioned by the rug like they're motivating him to keep going.

Harry's door is the widest of all three, and directly across from his is Marcel's dark blue one. He reaches up and knocks with his knuckles, a tiny sound permeating through the wood to the destruction on the other end. 

Louis doesn't expect for when the door to be yanked open, it would be just so that Harry's glare be so thunderous that it cripples his vocabulary and he's left with a garbled sentence on his tongue. He jumps from a fright when all the man does, looking no different in clothing than before, tosses something at his face before slamming the door shut again.

His mission failed and Louis let's his head hang low with a quivering lip as he processes the thought. What had been thrown at him floats to the ground in pieces, landing everywhere around his feet. Louis can't see that far with the blurriness behind his glasses from tears, and so crouches. 

He feels like he's been _punched in the heart_ a million times over when he reads the script on the paper. Tiny fragments of a navy galaxy with yellow outlined font right in the spot where the middle used to be. His Star Wars tickets. Louis falls back on his behind, picking up all the pieces to hold them in their shredded state, unable to stop the flow of tears.

They were simply tickets but he _treasured_ them for so long and now Harry's been vengeful enough to rip them up and throw at him. He feels like garbage all over again, the freedom and lust for independence turning so stale that his chest constricts and a horrid sob escapes his lips. Holding the crumbled bits of useless paper, Louis allows his loud sniffles to follow him all the way back to Edward's room.

  
* * * * *  


Edward arrives back with Marcel at something to ten at night. He remembers the house being this silent when he left and checks to make sure that he isn't being deceived. Harry and Louis are nowhere to be seen downstairs and just as he's about to inspect the upstairs level, his phone rings.

"I'll go." Marcel offers, getting a nod in consent. He's dog tired after today and even a little sore. It's a mystery how Edward keeps up with this every day.

He strides past Harry's sealed door and ignores his own, stepping past the cracked open door to Edward's room. It's completely dark inside, the curtains closed and no movement whatsoever. Marcel looks to the bed and the sight is both precious and heartbreaking.

Louis was the smallest entity balled up to take up as little space as possible in the middle of Edward's vast, plush mattress. One arm was covering his ears and caused little pink lines across his cheek that Marcel had to brush over with his thumb. He sat down behind the sleeping boy, trying not to jostle him in such a peaceful state.

He was such a peaceful soul when he slept, void of the worldly troubles he carried around on his shoulders when awake. Louis could curl up anywhere, close his eyes and instantly become a carefree angel from the haunted one he was in consciousness. It shouldn't be possible but here this lovely heart lay, evidence to the miraculous.

That's not all Marcel sees, for Louis' other hand is clutched to his chest. Something spills from it when his clenched fist loosened and _of course_ Marcel instantly recognised the navy galaxy. He frowned for a minute, gathering more pieces from Louis' soft as a feather hand. A few of the paper chunks are missing but Marcel hears the blood thicken in his veins, feels it lick the insides of the vessels like fire. Anger grows rampant as he gets up and storms out. 

Edward passes him in the hallway on his way to the bed where he plans to sleep for twelve hours. He's intrigued by Marcel's hard expression, the murderous look in his eye especially because the youngest triplet simply shoulders past him and keeps walking. He pauses in the hallway silently just outside his door as Marcel comes to Harry's, knocking feverishly on it.

As soon as the door opens, something breaks out. Edward is surprised by it, if he's being honest. He's never seen Marcel throw a punch first and certainly not at _Harry_. It amuses him a little to stand there with his arms crossed, narrowing down on the promise of a fight. Marcel's blow to Harry's jaw did enough to knock him backwards, leave his lip busted and bleeding.

Harry wipes the blood off with his thumb and glares at his brother, deep dark emotions singing murder. "What the _fuck_ , Marcel?!"

Edward waits for Marcel's tightened fist to loosen before he hears a decent response. Marcel was otherwise harmless unless something _significant_ pissed him the fuck off because then he became one with the beast of man.

"This!" Marcel held up something that looked like paper, torn and crumpled bits of paper. "What did you do, you bastard?!"

Harry looks at the paper and seems to understand while Edward would still like an active commentary. He remains silent nonetheless. Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with flared nostrils and tries to control the rhythm of his breathing. Tight as his chest was, he was shivering a little and sucked his lip into his mouth to lick the blood off.

"It was in the heat of the moment." Harry explains, hardly a whisper. He breathes with hard heaves to incidentally flex the abs on his abdomen. "I was going to apologise."

It's too much ambiguity for Edward now. "What is this about?"

When their eldest brother asked a question, it never went unanswered. Marcel doesn't ease up on his glower directed powerfully in Harry's direction. "I bought Louis these tickets and this asshole tore them up right in front of him."

Harry didn't dare point out that all he'd done was let the torn pieces fall in front of Louis' precious form. He really was an asshole. "I'll get him new ones."

Edward nodded once he understood. He doubted getting new tickets, all the tickets in the world, would make a difference to Louis. His boy was simple and the smallest of possessions were his treasures. He'd witnessed it first-hand.

"When did you buy these tickets?" Edward turns to the issue at hand. Marcel never told him he had taken the liberty of buying _his boy_ tickets for anything.

"A while ago. He wanted to see this movie for so long." Marcel dismisses the issue. 

Edward nodded apprehensively, suddenly missing Louis' warmth enough to have it feel like sharp pangs in his chest. He uncrosses his arms and tries not to sigh in utter exasperation, turning around to head back to his own room where a sleeping boy lay waiting for him.

Marcel turned back to the problem at hand once Edward's door clicked shut behind him. He was lethally staring at Harry's no longer outraged expression. "Explain to me why Louis cried himself to sleep."

The words churned horrendously in Harry's gut. It makes him far more exhausted than he already is and he sounds so when he speaks, letting Marcel into his room. "He went on the track today with Emilia."

"And?" Marcel stood by the shut door, arms crossed over his chest and judgement in his eyes.

Harry narrowed his vision, green overtaking black. "I was fuckin' worried!"

"So you ripped his movie tickets to pieces?" Marcel waved the evidence around. "That's was a ghastly thing to do, Harry."

"I know." Replies his drained, pale-looking sibling who drops onto the edge of the bed and hunches forward. "Those tickets meant so much to him. I _feel_ like a monster."

Marcel stepped forward, more as a brother than noble male defending Louis' honour. He combed his fingers through Harry's wavy, never neat curls and got a weak grumble in return. "Fix it."

"He's not going to forgive me." Harry argues, looking terribly helpless.

"He will." Marcel tugs on his hair to encourage him to stand up. "Go get him from Edward's room and bring him here."

The emerald green of Harry's eyes got wider. "Louis? He's asleep."

"Doesn't matter." Marcel even opens the door for him, letting the cool air of the hallway waft into the room. "Don't let him go until you've redeemed yourself."

Harry stood motionlessly, hardly even breathing, for a minute trying to order his scattered thoughts. With new resolve he knew he had to win the lovely boy back, try as hard as he will, and nodded in acceptance. He first thanked his brother with a hug and tease about the grease in his hair.

  
* * * * *  


Edward takes a hot shower to act on his wish-list for the night. It's far too late with far too low a battery to do much else. He first kisses Louis' cheek while the boy remains asleep, before straightening up to have a shower. The hot water, scathing as it was, soothed him while his mind raced three weeks ahead when he had somewhere to be with the least desirable companion.

He didn't hear his room door open or the footsteps following the sound but he perked up to the noise afterwards when the intruder left. Edward turned off the shower to check and nearly tore the roof down when his rage crept up on him like the silky slithering of the devil's serpent. 

The bed was now empty, no Louis.

  
* * * * *  


Harry was as stealthy as he could be when he completed the mission of stealing Louis out of Edward's bed. To lift the boy from the sheets was _a dream_ coming true, yet he hadn't appreciated the gift to the world that this boy was. 

While he berated himself, Louis lay curled up nearly into a ball form amongst an ocean of soft sheets. He was the softest among them. Sound asleep with no sound to wake him, Harry's notorious back worked against him when he picked him up. The weight was difficult to carry until he straightened himself up. 

Louis hardly moved beyond dreamily recognising that he's in a different state and mumbling something unintelligible in progress. He rubbed his eye in slumber, arm falling back to a limp state with both hanging loosely over Harry's arms. Harry had to be more than careful not to knock the dozing boy against any surface as he stole him away, shutting the door slowly before heading into his own room. The door was soon locked from the inside.

With Louis on his bed, now cocooned by _his_ expensive bedding and not Edward's, Harry felt lighter where his heart was. His pillow had Louis' head on his, his pale arms tucked underneath with his fingers curled and lips parted. Harry brought the covers up to his shoulders, making him look so small and protected that he had to leave a kiss on the boy's cheekbone.

Harry heard shuffling outside his door just after he stretched the muscles in his back and loosened up the knots that made it feel too tight to move. He sat on the edge of his bed and covered Louis' ears in time for a heavy round of knocking on his door to ensue. The boy heard none of it, his cheek and jaw cradled by Harry's large palm.

Edward's fist pounds on Harry's door, his voice rising to the occasion as he shouts and rattles the door. So urgent and ardent was he, shoving the door with his shoulder to no avail while Harry held Louis safely captive in his own possession. The night drew on until Edward's desperation waned his knocking and the house fell into silence.

  
* * * * *  


Louis woke up long after morning filtered through the dark purple curtains over panoramic windows. He sniffled and stirred as his sleep faded away, bringing him back to the real world where he used to hate being. His eyes were boring into the bland beige ceiling, thoughts empty as he realised that it's Sunday already.

There was something desirably warm and firm around him, just a muscular arm bound so securely around his waist that he couldn't possibly break free from it. Louis shuffled a little and sat up with a fright when he recognised this room not to be _Edward's_.

With sitting up came the inevitable fall of the foreign arm from Louis' waist to his lap. He squirmed immediately away from it, a gasp tumbling out between his lips as his heart raced against his ribcage. The stunned boy stared dumbfoundedly at Harry's sleeping form, flattened on his front with his hair ruffled and upper half naked. 

Louis looked around the room as sad and heartbroken emotions flooded his system. He panicked thinking about how he ever got here because he can't remember doing it on his own legs. The covers he had pooling around him served as a worthy barrier, helping him anchor himself as he felt his lip quiver and tears sting his eyes.

Harry's betrayal from the night before rung loud and clear in his memory, the sticky remnants of sadness over-ruling him. Louis took shallow, scared breaths with a narrow chest trying to accommodate it all. He rushed out from under the covers and did not hesitate to drag them with him, wanting to protect himself. 

Unfortunately the movement woke Harry up, the motions to grand and inexclusive not to shift the mattress they shared. Harry was groggy when he was alerted into being conscious, hearing the soft padding of feet and jolting upright when he knew why they were so fragile.

Louis was at his door, so close to the latch where he was unhooking the lock when Harry got up. The boy hastened to act faster, hoping to escape in time but arms encased his waist and he was airlifted effortlessly. Louis cried out from being off the ground and squirmed all that he could to hinder Harry's intention.

"L-Let me go!" He was raggedly breathing, nails scratching Harry's forearms as he was taken away from the door. 

"Hush, kitten." Harry's voice was especially raspy and low when he'd just woken up, wincing from Louis' attacks on his skin. 

Louis was a tough cookie and had to jerked upward, nearly thrown further into the air, for Harry to tighten his grip and properly envelope his middle. Harry locked his hands together at Louis' front and held him close, back to chest, before returning to the bed feeling like he's claimed the worthiest prize.

Careful to be gentle about it, Harry dropped Louis onto the mattress first and sighed dejectedly when all the boy did was try to leave again. He had no choice but to battle the flailing limbs working against him but to pin them down with his weight. Louis' arms were held down above his head and Harry's knees caged in his thighs.

"Stop, kitten." Harry hissed when Louis wouldn't stop thrashing about beneath him, little whimpers and breathless protests filling the morning breeze. "Calm down, sweetheart. It's just me and you."

When he actually looked at the boy, down at all his shivering broken glory, Harry has never suffered more pain in his chest than then. All Louis' resistance served to have faint tear tracks turn his rosy cheeks glossy, pale and oceanic blue eyes freezing to crystal. Louis looked frightened by him, chest rising and falling in pants as their faces were inches apart yet hearts miles away.

"It's just you and me." Harry repeated in a whisper, well and truly captivated by one person encompassing all the beauty in the world. 

He released Louis' wrists in favour of cradling his face, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. Louis kept his legs closed at his knees, also nose reddened by all the early morning hysteria. 

"I am sorry, kitten. So sorry." Harry pressed their foreheads together as he had no other options to ensure Louis _saw how regally apologetic he was._

Louis held onto Harry's wrists because he was nervous about being touched by this man who broke one of his treasures. "L-Let me-"

"No, kitten." Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he proclaimed it. "I can't let you go."

Louis huffed and let his knees fall onto the side, Harry's body holding them against the mattress. He was sinking into the soft stuffing and springs, Harry's abdomen with muscle and firmness pressing into the warmth of his thighs. 

It was too much temptation not to lean in dreadfully close and nuzzle Louis' neck. Harry did so with active fervour and he slid his hands over the mattress above their presences, gripping the sheets with tight fists as he buried his face in Louis' neck. He exhaled slowly, blowing warmth over the goosebumps that formed. Louis was stock still and slowly losing the energy to shudder.

"Forgive me for yesterday, kitten." He begs with the sweetest peck over Louis' jugular. He pressed his sealed lips to the pulsating spot afterwards, jaw clenched at the sight of a love-bite over it. "What's this?"

Louis felt his skin tingle where Edward's bite rested, bruised skin open and in view. He blushed deeply and tried to free himself, only to have himself pinned immobile again. "E-Edward."

"Oh." Harry studied the mark intently. "You let him?"

He got a stuttered nod from Louis, looking into the depths of Louis' eyes to read the words he kept hidden. Harry parted his lips and had them latch onto Louis' skin. He heard a gasp and felt a shiver run down Louis' spine, vibrations racing through their veins and tasted like honey on their tongues.

"I don't approve." Harry's body mass was far too great for Louis to fend him off. 

Harry attached his mouth to Louis' neck where his pulse was strong and throbbing just the right way against the tender flesh of his lips. He listened to the boy grumble in protest as he licked over the red bruise and pinched the skin between his molars. 

Moans left him indiscreetly, as Harry both kissed and abused the skin prey to him. He rolled the frail thinness between his sharp canines, further marking up the red skin. Harry sucked harshly on what he possessed, groaning to add to his purpose as he fisted the fabric of his own bedsheets and tilting Louis' head back by force for more access.

He was going to leave a mark bigger than Edward's, claim a spot right here where he deserved to be as well. Louis resisted with great fervour, pushing at Harry's shoulders as they hunched forward to block him out. He whined pitifully and flinched from too much pressure on a spot where his body was the peak of sensitivity.

Harry sunk his teeth deeper and shifted his lips a little to the left, furthering his playing field. Louis dropped his head back and shut his head, victim to something that's part of a battle he's bound to lose. He moaned when sparks of pleasure resonated from where Harry's lips were, fuelling the man's anticipation.

"Good boy." Harry pulled off with a wet pop and redder lips than when he started, staring down into Louis' widened eyes with a teasing smirk. He had little air in his lungs. "Good boy."

Louis was weak for hearing that. He grumbled incoherently and turned his head to the side when Harry swooped down for something akin to a kiss. He was still upset.

"So naughty of you, baby." Harry whispered to Louis' shock, rendering him speechless with something absent of repulsion. 

The man turned his face into Louis' neck where he chose to smirk in an evil manner, arrogantly as he took in how Louis _didn't_ try to push him away again. Harry took Louis' hands when they reached out and linked their fingers whether it was wanted or not. He marvelled at the beauty of the bite left on Louis' skin, the skin glistening with saliva and bruised by mistreatment. He wanted to cover Louis in love-bites.

"You're ignoring me even though I'm allowed to make marks on you?" Harry was chuckling, soft and melodious right in Louis' ear. 

Louis looked up at him as if marred by those peculiar words, skin turning flushed and bright pink as he breathed heavily. He had his nails digging into Harry's waist through no shirt, half-moon shapes appearing on the toned and perfectly tanned skin. Air seemed thrown for a moment, time suspended and salvation twisted. 

Blue melted green and found a home in it, a sensation shining like the moon when it comes out to play. It had to be when the only truly magnificent light shone against the darkest hour.

"Am I forgiven now?" Harry couldn't care less for whatever reservations Louis had because he was over-heated with something _maddening_. 

He slid his hands down to where Louis' hips met the mattress in a slight arch, forcing his arms under that curve. The man blew out a long exhale in stewing thought, hands overlapping as they met and passed on to clutch Louis' hips. He held their chests flush against each other and broke all empty space between them with putting their faces in close proximity.

Louis brought his hands up to Harry's shoulders and nape, fingers twitching where they met bare skin. He was breathing unevenly from how intimate they appeared to be. His skin was tingling already and he was a lot more than _a little_ nervous. 

"N-No." Louis muttered the heartwrenching response. He might have been teasing but Louis is one who possesses the most detailed facial features. Harry couldn't read him.

"Why not?" Harry instead chose to ask for clarification. He squeezed Louis' hips, felt the fabric bunch up between his fingers and the skin just below graze against his touch. 

"I-I-" Louis bit his lip in thought. "I really w-wanted to see t-the movie."

Harry processes this but not without slivers of guilt turning into the manifestation of raw anxiety. "I'm so sorry, kitten. I regret ever hurting you that way."

Louis nods like it's okay now but the tables have turned and maybe he's willing to accept the loss but Harry isn't. 

"I'll make sure you see that movie." Harry promises him with a kiss laid on his nose. "Anything to see you smile at me again."

Louis can't help but follow orders right then and have his lips twist into a hesitant smile, reaching his eyes in the faintest shimmer of light. "I-It's sold out."

Harry made an unimpressed tsk sound. He pulled himself up as well as Louis and hauled the helpless boy right into the trap of his arms again, an 'oof' sound coming from the victim. Louis felt his head spin with all the blood rushing to his brain, needing to lean on Harry for momentary support.

"I can anything-" Harry recited. "-and for you especially, kitten, I _will_ do anything."

  
* * * * *  


Breakfast comprised of Marcel being left alone with Louis to handle the cooking of their first meal. Harry had been called the business of Louis' movie tickets to secretly attend to and Edward hasn't come out of his room since bombarding Harry's door with an offence.

At first things were awkward and calm yet undeniably tense. Marcel cooked on the regular but Louis never did and so the latter's mishaps like dropping the milk because Marcel's elbow bumped his were common. They were simply endearing how puzzled and cautious Louis was henceforth.

Marcel took over all duties regarding the stove and sucked in a sharp breath. "I haven't spoken to you all morning."

Louis paused with his back to Marcel, hugging his middle with one arm and buttering toast with the other. "Y-You have."

"No." Marcel flips a pancake for the second time, tossing it onto a plate when he realises he needs more batter. "Could you pass me the bowl of batter, doll?"

He doesn't turn around but hears Louis set his knife down and take up the porcelain bowl where Marcel had mixed batter earlier. Quietly, Louis shuffles forward and nearly projects the bowl when Marcel looks back at him. 

"Come here." Marcel gestures for him to come forth, accent thicker than usual in his speaking.

Louis takes a few measly steps toward him until they're shoulder to shoulder. He has the bowl in both hands, framed by his fanned out fingers. Marcel moves a little out of the way, a hand floating downward to Louis' lower back. It remains stagnant there as he guides the boy to to stove.

"Pour it." Marcel instructs gently, smiling down at the precious individual beside him.

"Really?" Louis looks at the sizzling butter in the frying pan like it's something new.

Marcel watches him push up his glasses and blinks away the itchiness induced by his own contacts. He uses them during the weekend because he tends to forget where he leaves his glasses or just how careful he's supposed to be.

"Go ahead." Marcel encourages, making certain to be supportive when Louis looks up at him in trepidation.

Louis does it the first time and it's a little messy because his hands are unsteady. He pouts once he's done and Marcel comforts him with a kiss on his forehead, ignoring the splatter on the stove. 

"I like it." Marcel tells him as a sentiment, a proud declaration about the odd shape Louis created in the pan. "It has character."

Louis giggles and shakes his head in denial, returning to his station by the butter and toast. The awkward tension has melted and disappeared like it never existed. 

Marcel drops more ready pancakes onto the plate placed on a warmer, calling to Louis once the non-stick frying pan is void of content again. Louis reappeared at his side with the same bowl but a spoon of significant width this time, choosing to ease the burden of pouring with a utensil.

"Clever." He gets a compliment from Marcel, making him smile with a sparkle. 

Louis successfully pours a neater dollop of pancake batter into the frying pan this time, listening to it sizzle as it increased its surface area across the butter. Marcel was more fascinated by the sight of his curiosity, innate and so pure. Louis' stomach grumbled a little too loudly and led to his embarrassed squeak, a rushed effort to cover that part of him.

Marcel doesn't mock him for it, merely releasing a chuckle. "We need to feed you, doll."

Louis' blush is breathtaking. "I-I'm fine."

"And I don't care." Marcel dismisses his reluctance with a risen eyebrow and small dimpled smile. "How many pancakes can we make with the batter that's left?"

"Um-" Louis peers into the bowl for a beat. "-maybe t-two."

Marcel hums and nods, flipping the pancake onto its back to fry thoroughly. He leans back against the stone afterwards, going unnoticed as he watched Louis close up the butter and jam before neatly tucking them back into their slots in the cabinets. Louis washed the dishes he used and was careful with those he'd still use. He never left the station he worked at filthy after being there and Marcel couldn't believe it.

"You know-" Marcel starts to say. "-you're a far better cooking partner than my brothers."

Louis feels heat rising to his cheeks as the compliment soaks into his under-nourished self-esteem. "I-I hardly think so."

The other scoffs and turns back around to the stove, removing the ready pancake and pouring more batter into the pan on his own while Louis washed up some plates. "I'm enjoying my time with you."

Louis has an even deeper blush, however improbable, colouring his hollowed cheeks. "M-Me too."

The response makes Marcel beam. "In that case, doll, I declare that we should make breakfast everyday."

"W-We don't have pancake b-batter for that." Louis' giggle that follows is nothing short of thrilling and musical, his eyes lighting up. 

Marcel laughs along with him for a short while, at last finishing up at the stove so that they may finally eat. He gets the honey for Edward, maple syrup for himself and peanut butter ice cream out for Harry. Their breakfast preferences were singular and odd to say the least. Louis hadn't eaten nearly all day yesterday and although he's proud of himself for it, that sort of restraint has led to him feeling light-headed.

"Would you like to call my brothers down?" Marcel asks of Louis, a hesitant smile present on his features. He wasn't all that ready to forfeit the time he's had with the boy.

Louis thinks about it and nods graciously before sliding off the stool upon which he was perched. He padded lightly out of the kitchen and up the carpeted stairs towards the familiar bedroom doors. 

Harry's door came first and so Louis stopped there to knock thrice gently on the hard wooden barrier. He wouldn't dare test to see if the door was locked though he knew it was. He stood back on his haunches and waited for thirty seconds before the door swung open to reveal a freshly showered, half naked Harry.

All tattoos on display along with the chiselled physique of his abdomen. Harry was smirking across a small distance at the boy who came knocking, an arm propped up against the edge of the door. "Hello, kitten."

Louis barely maintained the secrecy of his blush, mouth screwing shut to prevent a smile. "H-Hi."

Harry drew in a relaxed audible breath and reached for Louis with his free hand, bringing the boy into his territory with a dampened arm tightening around his waist. Louis wasn't opposed though he was surprised and held onto Harry's arm around him like he doubted its stability.

"To what do I owe this honour?" Harry first gave him a kiss. One for the ages and far beyond.

Louis felt more confident after that, like each of their kisses were little doses of a drug he's been deprived of all his life. "W-We're having breakfast."

Harry doesn't care much for how much he's wetting Louis' shirt. It's one of his because Harry hadn't wanted Louis to use his own clothing. "I'll be down in a second, alright?"

"Okay." Louis escaped Harry's grasp before the challenge would become impossible. He laughed so bright and freely when Harry tried to catch him again, a distance between them now. 

Edward's door was certainly locked for Louis knocked on it twice in three turns but got no response. He grew concerned thinking Edward did something awful, or worse could have happened. He leaned forward against the door with his forehead against it, worried deeply.

"E-Edward?" He whispered brokenly, all the possibilities scarring his calm composure. "D-Daddy?"

The door finally opened upon the weak utter of one word as a question. It proved that Edward was really there, looking miffed beyond all measure with a jaw clenched so tight it hollowed his cheeks and fingernails scraping the paint off the door as he gripped it.

Louis was unsure of what to do now that he stood here under the scrutiny of a man far scarier, broader and more intimidating. He sniffed and hugged himself around his middle, cheeks warming up as he heard a few footsteps bring Edward closer. It was like swallowing ice when he looked down and saw two bare feet nearer to his, taking a deep breath before the plunge forward when Edward engulfed him in his arms without a word.

"You spent the night away from me." Edward's arms were constricting around his shoulders, kissing Louis' forehead and cheek. 

He didn't ask permission this time and picked Louis up around his middle, hearing no protest before whisking him back into his room where he shuts the door. Edward pressed Louis up against the door once he slammed it closed, breathing harshly into Louis' neck. His arms lock around Louis' thighs to keep them hoisted around him, eyes shut. 

"You were with my brother?" Edward reached a little to the left and clicked the lock on the door to ensure the lack of disturbances. 

Louis gasps when Edward parts his lips and let's his teeth sink into the love-bite left on him. He was grounding himself to Louis. "I-I'm sorry, D-Daddy."

"Shh." Edward released him from the stress of his jaws and brought their faces closer. "It's alright, baby. You're with me now."

Louis was happy to hear that. He preened at the term of endearment and willingly wrapped himself around Edward's form, ankles locking at his back. "W-We're um- having-"

"Breakfast, I know." Edward's chuckle is short-lived. He jerks on the crooks of Louis' knees to hike them up higher. "Let me first steal some time to be with you."

"M-Me?" Louis has wide cerulean eyes filled with the emotions of someone who's learning to be appreciated. 

Edward brushes Louis' hair back away from his eyes with an indiscreet wink. "Of course I meant you, sweetlips."

For a moment they stay suspended together, Louis' body wrapped innocently all the way around Edward's. The latter kept him upright and secure, hands cupping his body just below forbidden territory. Edward finally moved away from the door to carry Louis with stumbling steps and grave determination towards the bed Louis was _supposed to be in._

"My brother hurt you yesterday." Edward said as he sat on the bed and Louis slid onto his lap, legs folded the side instead of astride him. "Is that still so?"

Louis shakes his head and nibbles on his cherry shaded bottom lip. "I-I'm better now."

"Good." Edward brushed Louis' sides comfortingly. He kissed the boy's forehead even. "I always want my baby to be happy."

Louis' smile is unmistakeable and he chooses to pick aimlessly at the three buttons on Edward's navy shirt. He undoes one with too much attention and hastily seals it again. "I-I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart." Edward framed Louis' hips with the cage of his arms. "You can touch me anywhere you like."

As impossible as it may be, Louis' embarrassment only deepens with the shade of red his cheeks take to. He quickly hides his visage in Edward's neck so his shy smile is blocked out as well. 

"Now, baby. Stop hiding." Edward rubs his thumbs into the base of Louis' spine, a trivial form of a massage. 

He hears Louis giggling into his neck and pushes his hair back behind his ears to pepper kisses along the stretch of his throat. Louis hums complacently with the cold touch of Edward's lip piercing on his warm skin, catching Edward's hand by his middle finger over his hip. 

"Can-Can I really touch you anywhere?" Louis quietly asked to triumph over their silence.

Edward didn't waste a breath. "Yes."

Louis' lips turn circular in intrigue, his own wondrous and angelic intrigue that entices even the demons from Hell to the light. Those magnificent blue eyes flicker to Edward's contemplative ones, darting away instantly upon being caught.

"What are you thinking?" Edward's lips twitch with a smile that threatens to expose itself, dimples making faint appearances.

First Louis denies it by shaking his head to say nothing but Edward falls back onto the mattress, taking the boy with him. The sudden drop makes Louis gasp and giggle, clinging to Edward's shoulders for an anchor. They both go down and Edward finds a generous hobby in memorising the contours of Louis' smile.

Louis has to get back up and plants his palms over Edward's firm pectorals to support his weight. He's seated comfortably up on Edward's thighs, an admirable sight for sore eyes.

"Deny it as you may, but you certainly do look like a princess from down here." Edward comments smartly with a slanted grin aimed at making Louis blush. 

The boy was perched on his body, touching no unwarranted areas as he kept his hands to himself. He was the only image Edward wanted to see for the rest of his life, folding his arms under his head and watching every crook in motion. Louis was a beautiful creature put on Edward's lap at this moment to remind the latter that there will always be something to tempt the holiest of men.

"I-I'm not a princess." Louis reinforces without authority. 

"I agree." Edward cleared his throat. "We must get you a crown to make it official."

"No!" Louis immediately disagrees with the suggestion. _Crowns_ are for children and royalty; he is neither.

"Yes." Edward bombards his argument with a final word, drawing himself up onto his elbows. "Every princess deserves a crown."

"I-I'm not a princess!" Louis may be raising his voice in defense but his eyes were full of mirth, something dignified and _provocative_. He was unaware of the power he wielded with that look.

"Don't argue with the King, sweetlips." Edward brought his palms to Louis' hips and indelicately squeezed, revelling in the feel of a visible bone structure gyrating against his fingertips. 

"King?" Louis enquired with interest. 

"Certainly." Edward concurred with a distracted nod. 

His focus was more concentrated on the way his thumbs were circling _one spot_ low on Louis' waist where he'd sneakily seen before. The skin was especially frail and formed a film over Louis' hip bones, a fine structure that jutted out through his skin. 

"But-" Louis sits up so his back is straight, eyes curious. "-i-it isn't fair."

"What is that, sweetlips?" Edward questioned, openly bemused but lightly so as not to offend the puzzled boy in his lap.

"Because-" Louis rested one arm over Edward's shoulder, bent at the elbow and resting against his shoulder blade. "-I-I'm not as ready as you a-are."

"Sweetlips." Edward sighs, arms hooked over Louis' knees. He makes sure to stay connected when he kisses Louis' temple. "What do you mean?"

"Y-You know." Louis doesn't want to say it. The words barelled to the tip of his tongue but sat there, brewing in poison. 

Edward had to furrow his brow in misconception, taking a while to think about what it could mean. "Are you saying that you aren't ready to be together physically?"

Louis can only nod, a lot more shy with his response than he should be. He rests his head on Edward's shoulder and listens to his heart thump against his ribcage, his gut twist in anxiety and fear. He couldn't have Edward not want to be with him because he's so incapable.

"Baby." Edward sounds concerned, so troubled to be hearing these things. "Have I pressured you, love?"

"N-No, but-"

"Then that's it, sweetlips. That's all there is." Edward kisses the spots just below Louis' eyes where his tears would fall if he ever dare allowed it. "You never have to hurry yourself for me."

Louis smiles, comforted by this promise. He tilts his head back enough to press his lips to Edward's jugular where the throb of a racing, steady pulse grazed his sensitive lips. Not being forced into anything by Edward made him feel secure to be in Edward's arms without a feeling of depravity or the need to repay the favour somehow. 

"Did you hear me, baby?" Edward wants to make sure that there aren't any grey areas. 

He'll wait a lifetime and then some for Louis to be ready. It's still so _early_ for anything other than kisses to be exchanged between them and the fact that Louis' unsure this soon is troubling.

"Y-Yes." Louis replies with certainty, reassured down to the last inkling doubt. "Th-Thank you."

Edward cooes affectionately and brings Louis closer for an embrace that settles their racing hearts two for one. "Sweetlips, I need you and it isn't only for your body. I see far more in you. I _want_ far more from you. What does a King love a princess for?"

"A-A King doesn't l-love a princess." Louis met Edward's eye, a little arch in his back as he tilted his head back. 

"No?" Edward cups Louis' cheek and leans down to kiss him a smile still on his lips. "A King loves a Queen."

**_[A/N: Grrr. One of my favourite chapters to write. Marcel's going to dominate the next chapterrrrr, sorta? You guys can always talk to me on Twitter or Instagram :) I love interacting with you! Any thoughts or feedback. @SSTomlinson for Twitter and @sumans98 on Instagram. - S xx]_ **


	10. TEN.

**_[A/N: Song for the chapter is Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld feat DNCE. Anyone would like to see anything particular happen in this story? Drop a comment and let me know. - S xx]_ **

"Niall!" Liam called over the hustle and bustle of their senior student body preparing for a field trip.

They were going to see _Othello_ the live production at a nearby theatre and although everyone was excited, Niall kept disappearing. Liam held Louis' right hand with his left and weaved through the crowds of students hovering in the parking lot awaiting the yellow buses.

"M-Maybe he went t-to the bathroom." Louis suggested but as he was saying it he knew the effort was wasted.

Liam was as paranoid and protective of Niall as all Louis' romance novelisations depicted for a male lead protagonist. His best friend since kindergarten chased after Niall even after arguments and petty fights to make sure he was safe, that he got to his classes on time. 

"Niall never uses the school bathroom." Liam tells him curtly over the noise of other voices.

The swarm of teenagers got too thick to manoeuvre through effortlessly and Louis felt his hand slipping out of Liam's somewhere between the first parking space and the main entrance. He took a deep breath and held it in his lungs as he tried not to whimper, frightened as he was by being blocked in like this.

A peek of freedom appeared under a jock's elbow and Louis made an effort to get there. He squeezed through the blazer and jersey covered bodies to nearly trip and fall over against the hood of a waxed Porsche. Thankfully he was caught and by arms that he recognised.

"Hello, doll." Marcel flashed him a dazzling, thousand watt smile with charming dimples and all.

Louis noticed that he was in a plain T-shirt and much too tight jeans. His boots were admirable and not too fancy either though Louis did not doubt the zeroes on its price tag. He hadn't gotten to see Marcel or Harry this morning at the mansion because Edward took him out for breakfast and dropped him off at school shortly after. He's also been informed that Harry won't be going to school today. His own father wasn't home yet and Louis had no intention of going back.

"H-Hi." Louis wiped his clammy palms on the thigh of his jeans under the excess fabric of the shirt Edward _encouraged_ him to borrow.

It was long-sleeved and pitch black, bringing his fragile pale complexion to the forefront of his appearance. Edward's necklace hung heavily against his chest, the cold steel on his bare skin.

Marcel was a gentleman and far more formidable than Liam in this school. He didn't need to _work his way_ through a crowd because they parted for him and whomsoever accompanied him. Marcel took Louis' arm and looped it through his, kissing the boy's knuckles as a delicate touch of chivalry.

"How was your morning?" Marcel asked politely as he stepped past the nuisance-making youngsters and led Louis to where his SUV was parked. 

"O-Okay." Louis got to lean his back against the bonnet of the monstrous vehicle, eyes wide and doubtful when Marcel caught him gently by the hips and stood blocking off every other sight or sound. "Y-Yours?"

Marcel's lips curled into a delicious smirk. "Could have been better, I must admit."

Louis blushed under the scorch of intensity from Marcel's gaze, the man's cologne of Old Spice and his aftershave alighting Louis' senses. They were muted and appealing. His fingers encircled - barely - Marcel's forearms for a grip on _something_. 

"My brother took you out this morning. Did you have fun, doll?" His companion asks him, twice as disinterested as Louis regarding the prying and judgmental stares falling to their close position.

"I did." He nods without a stutter, his glee from the latter truth making his smile that much brighter. 

Marcel marvels at this boy that's a head shorter than him in height, brushing back his feathery chestnut fringe so they don't block his eyes. His _eyes_ ; the most powerful source of light that the Gods put on this earth selfishly tucked it away inside one person. Marcel felt as though everyone who hadn't seen it were unfortunate and those who neglected it were sinners.

"Ride with me to the theatre." Marcel suggests but his tone is nothing of a request.

Louis' blue, blue eyes grow wider. "A-Are they letting you drive?"

"Louis!" He's being shouted for by the same twosome of friends he was separated from.

Their subject turns toward the sound, his person still encased mostly by Marcel's arms and Marcel's space. He sees Niall jogging ahead of Liam - a rare feat - to get to him but stopping short in the pebbled dirt after seeing Marcel. Liam follows suit and while Marcel doesn't seem to notice their slackened jaw states, both Louis' friends are stunned.

"Ride with me." Marcel carefully tightens his grip on Louis' waist, bold hands gathering the material of his shirt between his fingers. 

Louis is torn between the bus with his friends and just Marcel in a much more comfortable vehicle. "N-Niall and Liam. I-I can't-"

"They can join you." Marcel's grasping at straws for a chance to have Louis go through extensive traffic into town with him. "Provided you sit next to _me_ and they sit in the back."

"O-Oh." Louis feels heat rising to his cheeks as Marcel rushes his words, lips so close to his ear. 

"We're leaving in ten minutes, doll." Marcel releases the captive boy with a final kiss to his temple and glance at his paralysed friends. "Assure your friends that I am of an immortal lineage and will grow fangs if they do not stop staring at me."

Giggling abruptly, Louis covers his laughter but the crinkles at the corners of his electric eyes are undeniable. Marcel bids him adieu with a wink and walks away wordlessly.

Niall pounces on him the second he's standing alone. "When I'm _done_ being mad at Liam, I want to know what I just saw."

Louis' previous light-heartedness maintains itself, a bright smile marking his features. 

"What the _Hell_ is on your neck?" Niall hisses as soon as he sees it, pulling Louis closer and studying the bright purple bruise. "Actually, if it wasn't a wild animal I don't want to know."

Louis had forgotten about the worsened love-bite on his neck that Edward refused to let him cover up. He was going to listen even if he didn't agree. It was a dull throbbing, noticeable bruise that looked more painful that pleasurable on his pasty skin.

"Is that a hickie?" Liam frowns at it like his glare alone will erase the vile sight.

Louis covers the mark with his palm, protecting it from judgment. He hated the word 'hickie' which made something intimate sound too colloquial and slang. It was nerve-recking to walk around with his first love-bite in school halls minus a disguise but it was no burden.

"Who gave you a hickie?" Liam had turned into his protective brother bear mode, a rare fantasy. 

Niall scoffed. "Don't be dumb, love. You know who gave him that hickie."

Liam lifted his scowl to meet Louis' gaze. "You let them give you a hickie?"

Louis didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't _them_ and he hated how the question made him sound like a whore, which he most certainly is not. He opened his mouth to answer but closed it again when no such words came to him.

The buses rolled in at that moment and cut their conversation short when the involuntary cheering started around them. Just like that, their debacle was pushed aside and smother by the biggest pillow of ignorance.

  
* * * * *  


The entire drive had been silent save for the radio station host's voice or the occasional song played while they waited in traffic behind their school bus. Niall looked out the window and Liam tapped away on his phone. Louis was trying not to implode from the tension between their trio.

Marcel had parked in the underground lot designated for guests before cutting off the ignition and ceremoniously opening Louis' door for him. The act made Louis' cheeks flame up and want to hide underneath his seat for the sake of Niall's constant stream of shock.

He didn't know why his best friend was so surprised, more so because he had many theories. Maybe Niall never thought Marcel was one for a gentleman's manner? Louis really hopes that Niall isn't astounded by the fact that Marcel is being a gentleman to _him_ and nobody else. 

They took the elevator from the parking lot in silence and Louis' fingers laced through Marcel's. Each glimpse he caught of the man through his lashes was met with a cheeky wink that he ducked from instantly. Their school was the first of three to arrive and the theatre director asked them all to find seats around the lobby before they began seating. 

"Do you want anything, doll?" Marcel asked with his hands shoved into the pockets of his deep grey trench coat. 

He was sitting on the arm rest of a couch in the theatre's lobby lounge. There was a cafe to their left with snacks and warm beverages on this moderately humid day. The theatre had a strict rule about no edible items being taken into the actual play so as not to disturb the performing actors.

Louis shakes his head and at first stands on his own but is shortly yanked backward by Niall and drawn into their circle.

"Talk to me." His blond, erratic best friend demands without further elaboration. "Miss out a detail and I'll dump Liam."

"Hey." Liam frowns at his partner, clearly not understanding the joke.

Niall waved off his worry and turned back to Louis, sparkling blue eyes hardening with fatigued interest. "Lewis. Say something."

Louis feels much like he's the center of attention and wants it to be over as soon as possible. He fishmouths for a few seconds as he tries to get his thoughts in order. "I-I'm staying w-with them."

Niall clutches his chest, pained. _"What?"_

"W-Well, um-" Louis swallows thickly around the lump gnawing away at his throat. "-M-Melinda kicked me o-out and Edward f-found me."

"Kicked you out? Where's your Dad?" Niall urges, now more concerned about Louis than inquisitive. 

"B-Business trip." Louis weakly responds. The next thing he feels is a pair of thin, vanilla scented arms hugging him. He recognises Niall's bear hugs and immediately embraces him back.

"I'm sorry, Lou. She's a bitch." Niall rubs Louis' back and kisses his cheek as friendly encouragement. "You've been living with the triplets since when?"

"F-Friday." Louis clears his throat and briefly shares a hug with Liam, his chest constricting when he thinks that they don't hug enough anymore. Liam doesn't let him go so easily and he is thankful.

"Friday? That's a long time." Niall unzips the front of his hoodie. "You can always stay with me or Liam, Lou. You know that."

"Y-Yeah." He says nothing more on the matter because he quite likes staying with the Styles and soon that opportunity will expire. He wants to enjoy it for as long as he can.

They chat aimlessly after that, about Louis' excitement for being in an actual theatre that hosts live productions of Shakespeare. Niall's intentions are to get Louis' mind off Melinda and his drama from home; Liam's motives are to make Louis busy enough to not be interrupted by the youngest Styles triplet. He also get little harmless teases targeted at the nearing date of his dream Hamlet play. Marcel comes to save him from it all with a lidded to-go cup of steaming coffee. 

"Lou?" He slides his hand across Louis' back, leaving goosebumps under his shirt, and pauses over his waist. 

Louis looks at ease with Marcel. He looks up and gets offered some of the coffee; when he hesitates, Marcel knows his actual answer is _yes please_. It's fascinating to both Liam and Niall how it took them a few months to have Louis open up at different times even this little.

"You can't drink it now, doll. It's still piping hot." Marcel muses, his chuckle growing audible as he squeezes Louis' waist and uncaps the coffee to hurry along the cooling process. 

To while away his time, Louis wants to go exploring and there's a particular corner of the lobby he'd like to see. His fingers, where they're housed in one of Marcel's coat pockets, reach up to tug on the other's sleeve. He asks for attention this way, subtle enough that Marcel can always say no.

"Yes?" Marcel fails in suppressable the glint in his eye from amusement as he looks down at Louis.

Louis smiles at just hearing the opposite of he thought was coming his way. "C-Can we go over t-there?"

Marcel looks to where Louis is gesturing but just when he nods, his phone rings in his back pocket. He balances the brimming hot beverage in one hand whilst fishing out the iPhone. "Go ahead, doll."

Louis parts from him as quickly as Liam can swoop in and carry out the deed. The unvisited part of the lobby is staged like an old courtyard with an inactive water fountain and old-style balconies running along the top edges. Their literature teacher had taken photos for the school newspaper already and smiled at them on her way out.

"It's really dark in here." Liam commented offhandedly, three fingers in his jeans pocket. 

"There was no electricity in the fifteenth century, Liam." Niall retorts from one of the empty ticket booths. 

Louis looks around and peeks up the stairs leading to backstage. Everything was so silent and undisturbed that even the squeak of his own shoes spooked him.

"But they had flatscreen televisions?" Liam points to a giant LED screen hoisted up on the wall near a stage exit.

Niall sticks his tongue out in the direction of his boyfriend. Liam shakes his head in fond exasperation and scratches his forearm mindlessly. He spots Louis wandering near the fountain, looking over the edge into the bowl structure.

"Lou?" He approaches his friend and stands beside him. "What are you doing?"

Liam follows when Louis points to the well and finds that it's pitch black, an illusion of a bottomless well of sorts. The center decorative feature of the fountain sunk into that pit of darkness, pure black and nothing else to see.

"Do you think it's some kind of metaphor?" Liam watches Louis' scrunched brow and bitten lip relaxing.

"Maybe." Louis shrugs. He'd take a coin out and flip it over into the well but he couldn't afford to waste that kind of money. "Or it c-could just be p-poor construction."

They're being called back to the lounge just after that and Liam hardly gets to get a word in. He remembers a whimsical and joyous Louis from their much younger years, but now he's been gutted down the bare bones of reality. Liam doesn't blame him either because Louis has seen little beauty in life since his mother passed away. Even if he despises all the triplets and their ways, if they bring that smile of Louis' back and the sparkle to his eye then Liam's going to let them do it.

Marcel hangs up by the time they have to be herded into the theatre where they're due. He catches Louis by the arm before the boy disappears into the stream of students filing up the stairs. Already having gulped down the larger portion of the coffee, Marcel gets to watch Louis' squinted vision behind his glasses morph into a blush.

"It's not hot anymore, doll." He chuckles at Louis' doubt, although dismisses it. 

Louis is far more antsy and distracted by wanting to go in rather than drink coffee but Marcel ensures that he does. He holds the cup to Louis' lips and tips it back, letting it flow onto the boy's tongue while his smaller hands grip Marcel's wrists for anchoring. Louis earns himself a little moustache of coffee remnants when he parts with the cup, and Marcel wipes it away with his sleeve.

"Th-Thank you." Louis licks his lip on impulse and Marcel hears his own breath catch in his throat. 

"You're welcome." He kisses Louis' forehead. "Come now, doll."

They get seats in the second row where Niall and Liam reserved two chairs for them. At the door ushers hand out little booklets about the play and actors in it, which Louis reads avidly while the lights are still on. Marcel watches him shut everything else out in spite of the horrid noise around them. 

Louis crosses his legs and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, sniffling from the strong air-conditioning. Marcel drapes an arm around the back of his chair when a bunch of unidentified but nonetheless rowdy jocks find their place behind them. It unnerves him that they have to be so close to Louis but it can't be helped for situations such as these.

To calm himself and occupy his lips, Marcel presses them against Louis' temple. He shifts his arm from the chair to around Louis' shoulders and maybe he hears no protest because his captive is too engrossed in a six-page booklet to notice. It eases his reluctance when Louis actually returns the wholesome act by leaning into him. 

"Are you cold, doll?" Marcel asks when Louis decides against reading the hand-out a second time.

Louis shakes his head but it's a lie because there are goosebumps up his arms and Marcel sees the flushed complexion of his neck, his lips aching to touch that part of him. Nonetheless he has to respect that he can't be as forward as his subconscious beckons him to be. Sitting forward in his seat, Marcel strips off his coat and drapes its heavy weight over Louis' lap. 

"I-I'm not cold." Louis pouts, partially hidden by the darkness of dimming lights.

"You can't lie to me, doll." Marcel reassures him with a smirk.

By the time the end of the play rolls by, Louis has pulled the coat closer to his chest and buried the lower half of his face in its collar.

  
* * * * *  


It's the middle of the school day at the exact moment they get instruction from their teacher to not drive back to school. They will be going to a nearby tourist attraction that's an expansive garden spanning for miles and miles at four cardinal points. The flowers are beautiful there and everything urban is covered by nature.

Marcel dials a number as the teacher is speaking and speaks in a hushed tone to whoever it is before hanging up. He has Louis' hand clasped firmly in his and when they're dismissed to embark on the bus or - in the case of just two instants - their own vehicles, he holds the boy back.

"Don't want you getting trampled amongst all that chaos." Marcel says to him with a small laugh.

Louis is so precious and _small_ despite his arguments; easily a creature that needs to be protected. He takes his coat back as the whether is looking up outside now, draping it over his arm. He tidies Louis' fringe and his cold fingertips merely _brush_ the warmth of this boy's cheeks. Louis doesn't seem affected by such an unintentional act but he is blushing. 

"Now we can go." Marcel states once almost everyone has exited except those accepting their purchases at the cafe.

Niall and Liam are waiting by the car when they arrive, the former munching on something chocolate without sharing. Liam puts his phone away just as Marcel unlocks the SUV and let's everyone get in. Directions to the next destination pop up on the GPS and Marcel follows them despite being right behind the school bus.

Louis wrung his fingers together and kept them on his lap. He watches the tall urban building happening by and the people walking about doing their business. The entrance to the garden site is nearly camouflaged by overflowing growth of greenery, and Marcel parks under the shade of one particularly large pine tree.

"Do you think they'll let us order food from around here?" Niall asks Louis once they're through the main gate on the path to find a spot to settle.

"No." Louis can't help his giggle. "They n-never do."

The paved walkway winds around a little centre feature of stone and marble, opening up into dozens of routes that the visitors could take. Their teacher informs them of the time limit they have before allowing them to disperse into whatever groups they want. Louis first goes to the graphic map pinned up at the entrance, hoping to find something interesting.

"Thought I lost you, doll." Marcel's presence right behind him is no longer a surprise to him. 

Louis sighs and lifts his arm from his tummy to let Marcel's flattened palm and fanned out fingers rest there. He shudders at first contact and clenches his jaw to ease the tension that only melts away with such stubborn viscosity that he almost pushes Marcel away. However, his nerves ebb away eventually and he successfully relaxes.

"I-I'm here." He says, disappointed at how lame it sounds.

Marcel's chuckle is short and gravely. The warm breath tickled Louis' skin and heated it up all at once. "Don't do that again, doll."

"S-Sorry." Louis stammers when Marcel pulls free of his neck junction and clears his throat.

"Come on." Marcel tugs him gently along their only path that leads down to a clearing where the sun is shining just enough to relax them yet not sunburn them. 

The courtyard has a design of flower patches down the middle, dividing it into two portions. To get to it they had to walk through a sheltered pond and mini garden with vibrant fish swimming about in the water. Marcel holds Louis' hand in his with occasional strokes over the smooth, hairless skin of the boy's knuckles and fingers.

"Th-They're pretty." Louis leans over the railing where the sign warns them not to feed the fish and still let's Marcel clasp his hand angled backward.

Marcel watches the most fascinating individual with eyes that come to life and a soul thrice as bright as the sun. He holds himself back from pointing this out to his companion, informing him that simply nothing is pretty compared to him. Louis enjoys the company of the wading and swimming fish until he's ready to leave the protection of the shelter. Niall and Liam wandered ahead of them by now, arm in arm and talking about various things.

The sun is a gong hung high up in the sky, its tallest point at current times and dispersing equal amounts of moderate sunlight to everything below it. Louis sticks to the pavement as they walk towards the grass area, silently watching those walking on the lip of the stagnant pond displaying eutrophication with their partners keeping them balanced.

"What are you thinking about, doll?" Marcel asks, lightly swinging their connected hands between them.

Louis looks at him fleetingly then back at his shoes on the ground as they strolled onward. "N-Nothing and everything."

Marcel has to look up and smile at that answer. "How metaphorical of you, love."

Giggling without nerves, Louis leads them onto a free spot on the grass and almost sits without reservation. Marcel stops him just in time and lays his coat down first.

"No." Louis shakes his head, refusing the offer. "I-It's expensive."

"I can buy another coat." Marcel rolls his eyes, not arrogantly but truthfully. "I can fund the gardens to replant grass. I can't find another one of you."

Raising his head from the ground, the intended for those words is floored and disbelieving towards them. He has frozen lips, nearly pouted they are with his complaints. Louis' neck and face heat up with his blush, dared by his nagging subconscious to accept this compliment from someone that's a gentleman. 

He pushes himself up onto his tiptoes and meets Marcel's eye quickly before pecking his cheek, an artful stone jaw beneath his cushioning cherry lips. Marcel is touching that small part of his face with his fingertips when Louis withdraws and falls back on his feet.

Marcel takes Louis' hand and goes further to imprison both, pulling Louis close enough to eliminate all space and surprise him with the closest proximity. He leans down closer, pausing when their faces are inches apart. "Thank you."

Louis turns his face away but can't withhold his brilliant smile, gasping mutely when Marcel kisses his cheek as repayment. "F-For a kiss?"

"Yes." Marcel deadpans. "Who knows when I can have another considering I have to earn them, innit?"

Nodding playfully, Louis feeds the illusion and ends up laughing at the simplicity of their conversation. He hasn't laughed this much in a _long_ time.

"I thought as much." Marcel's amusement shows as curtained glints in his eyes. "Sit down, doll."

Louis and Marcel sit across from one another in the shade of an unidentified tree. They talk at regular intervals about nothing and everything, either one muttering the first things to pop into their heads. Marcel learns that Louis likes popsicles and especially the grape flavour of anything. Louis comes to know that his current partner enjoys first edition novelisations and mayonnaise on his English muffins. 

Marcel lightly teases Louis' shoe size when he takes them off to save the man's jacket any dirt or scruff marks. They're exceptionally small - if not tiny - and never plain; although the printed ones were more expensive Louis wore shoes for years while he saved for a new pair. He hated asking his father for money and sufficed with pinching footwear so there was no need to bother his old man.

"Are you hungry?" Marcel asks after twenty minutes when Louis' become more red in the face than tanned.

"A-A little." Louis looks around them for somewhere to get food from. "Are y-you?"

Marcel shrugs noncommitally and gets to his feet, helping Louis up after that and dusting himself off. "I could eat."

They gather up Marcel's coat and make a trip back up the gentle hill towards where the nearest map was. Louis was a step ahead of Marcel and got to the map but couldn't find clear directions to the tea garden, waiting for Marcel to come closer before pointing out his dilemma. 

There are signs sticking up out of the ground at random points on the path and they follow it up until there's a cross section and no sign. Louis scratches the inside of his wrist and blows out a breath to cool himself off when all he felt was heat and tiredness.

Ahead of them had a winding cobble stone walkway and they took a chance upon deciding to follow it instead of the road to their right. It proves to be correct and they come to the settlement of a lovely little tea garden with chairs under umbrellas. A few students are already here in groups and Marcel gets into the queue of people with Louis beside him. 

"What would you like?" Marcel asks distractedly while fishing out his wallet and squinting at the menu.

Louis looks it over and hears the odd vibration from Marcel's cellphone. With enough time and space ahead of them, the man answers it first and continues hunting for his money. 

"Yeah?" He sounds irritated straight off the bat. "Fuckin' Hell, Edward. We're fine."

Louis perks up at the mention of Edward however tries not to let it show, reading the menu choices and rereading it. 

"Next to me." Marcel supports the device between his ear and shoulder, pulling out a few notes from his wallet and tucking it away again. "Yeah okay, hold on."

The phone is freed and held out to Louis, pinched between Marcel's thumb and forefinger. He looks a little flustered and a lot annoyed but smiles for Louis' benefit to say that it's okay if he uses his phone. Louis takes the device from his grip and it seems to gain width in his smaller hands.

"Wait." Marcel halts him in his motion to step out of the line. "What are you eating?"

Louis chews his lip, having forgotten entirely what decision he made. "Um- Anything."

Marcel nods and the woman behind the counter asks him for his order, Louis easily slipping away to hide between a hedge and the side wall of the hut-like structure. He holds the phone to his ear, supported by all his fingers on one hand while the other stretched across his front.

"Louis?" Edward's voice filters through the speaker. 

"H-Hi." Louis grins as if his boyfriend - the word _stuns_ him - were actually present. 

Edward smiles out of relief on the other end. "How are you, baby? Having fun?"

"Yeah." Louis stops himself from chewing on his thumb, instead toeing at the dirt at his feet and curling his fingers around the glossy iPhone. "W-Where are you?"

"Working, sweetlips." Edward's chuckle makes him blush without more than a sound to revel in. "That reminds me. I saw something today and thought of you."

"Really? W-What was it?" He releases his bottom lip from between his molars to ask, intrigue evident in his tone.

"You'll see for yourself tonight." There is shuffling on Edward's side that causes conflict in their connection.

"Edward?"

"I'm here, baby." He gets an immediate reply from the man on the other end, disclosing Louis' worry. "I have to go, sweetlips. I will see you tonight, okay? You'll get your present then."

"Wait-" He's about to object to any sort of gift being purchased just for him but Edward's stifled chuckle echoes through the line before he hangs up. 

Louis pouts down at the screen as it goes black and he locks it deftly before looking up to see where Marcel is. Chest loosened exceptionally from tension due to his most recent phone call, he practically skips over to the man standing in front of the station awaiting their food.

"Hi." He chirps giddily.

Marcel passes him a side glance with a signature smirk of his. "That was a quick conversation, doll."

Louis nods and hands Marcel back his phone politely. Marcel puts it away in his back pocket and smiles at the aged woman that hands him their order. Trying to peek through the container is unsuccessful until Marcel finds them an unoccupied umbrella with two empty plastic chairs.

It turns out that Marcel ordered Louis a toasted sandwich of cheese and tomato slices, with iced tea in a can. The shade provided by the umbrella was merciful as Louis was starting to feel the beginnings of a headache which he hoped to avoid at all costs. He had a full school week ahead of him. 

He also hadn't noticed Marcel watching him pick out the crusts of his sandwich and scraping off some of the melted cheese. Those piercing green eyes didn't lower their guard even after they were caught.

"Aren't you hungry?" Marcel asked as he sat back and easily popped the tab on his can.

Louis fidgeted with his between his hands, the metal tab hurting his nearly stubby fingernails while he tried to open it. "I-I am."

"You eat so little, doll." Marcel disapproved, setting his elbows on the table and holding his hand out. "Let me."

Louis handed over the can without argument. "I always e-eat this much."

"Exactly." Marcel returns to him the opened beverage with water droplets on the tin exterior and a straw popped into it. "Are you trying to accomplish something by eating this little?"

Ashamed, Louis shakes his head and tries not to swallow his tongue as panic builds rapidly in his ribcage.

"Louis." The boy's head snaps up when his name is called. "You are beautiful irrespective of anything."

Shying away from this kind of recitation, Louis curls in on himself with stinging eyes and a heavy heart. He feels his lip wobble in distaste aimed at his own stupid self and bites it to try stopping the pain, by only causing far more. His lip bleeds as he thinks about the past, all his opportunities to eat more yet he pushed the offers away. Marcel was kind and said these things to be a genuine gentleman but that's all this is.

It was hard coping with the thoughts that plagued him and the monsters that fed off his misery. Trying to listen to someone spout meaningless compliments was _impossible_ when there was so much obviously unlikeable about him. Externally he wasn't much to look at and internally he felt like a catastrophe. 

Edward saw something unspoken in him that the man wanted to share. Harry had a similar but far from same approach to their relationship. But _Marcel_ ruined Louis. He was kind and sweet, never forcing himself nearer than necessary and working his way to Louis' mind before their physical contact escalated. He was a weak spot for Louis because while the boy thought it was nothing to smile and banter, Marcel had planted his memory in Louis' heart. 

Louis is getting up from the table, his chair scraping the stone ground loudly, and taking off in a run away from their station. His food and tea were untouched, his heart a little shattered.


	11. ELEVEN.

**_[A/N: TO THOSE WHO DON'T UNDERSTAND LOUIS' STUTTER. Whhhyyy must you be so awful in the constant commenting that it annoys you? Once - if not never - is just fine. His stutter is a marker of character development and the point that he doesn't stutter with his friends is nothing short of invalid because he's been with his friends for so long, yet how long with the triplets? A stutter is a recognised anxiety symptom, Google it and stop hating on my work. - S xx]_ **

**Louis is getting up from the table, his chair scraping the stone ground loudly, and taking off in a run away from their station. His food and tea were untouched, his heart a little shattered.**

"Louis?" Marcel called to him before Louis was well outside earshot, standing at the same time as his companion. "Louis!"

Confused and frayed at the seams of his mind, Marcel let his chair fall to the ground as Louis' silhouette weaved through gathered bunches of students. He got up and chased after Louis down the winding pathway of paving and smooth stone, following after Louis with giant leaps in his stride.

"Lou!" He grabbed onto the boy's arm the instant they were in decent proximity and yanks him back. "Lou, _wait._ "

Louis' mass is lesser than Marcel's, his body easily succumbing to greater strength. He gets drawn to a halt somewhere under the billowing shade of a weeping tree with drooping branches and Marcel is so near to him that their scents mingle. Louis huffs when he can't free himself and spins around to face a very unfocused Marcel, the sun making him squint and the heat hurting his head.

There's a _fire_ in Louis' eye that takes Marcel's breath away with how high the flames roar and how strongly it inhibits a small, powerful soul. The man let's it settle in him as well, aware from the start it only works in blue-eyed beauties of strong will.

"What's wrong, babydoll?" He asks to tempt that fierceness into speaking, his hand losing its grip on Louis' arm to latch onto his waist. 

Louis has his hand wrapped around Marcel's forearm to either secure its grip or loosen it, but only the objective of the former is met. When he speaks, it's a bullet to the heart. 

_"I'm not trying to lose weight!"_ He snaps suddenly, which is the last thing Marcel thought about with flushed cheeks and wide blue eyes being the only visuals in sight. 

"Uh-" He cuts himself off for the sake of his misunderstanding, jaw falling agape. 

"I'm not!" Louis insists, his voice croaky and trying to be so _strong_ for a pitch that's usually so delicate. 

Whether Louis was trying to convince Marcel or himself, Marcel was ready to stand there all day long and listen to how passionate he became. It barely crossed his mind that Louis hadn't erred or stuttered as he shouted, the volume of his rant seemingly harsh to himself but hardly above the regular tone for Marcel. 

_How precious._

"I believe you, babydoll." Marcel says but it's so soft that Louis hardly hears him because his head space has put him elsewhere. 

Louis has a crystalline layer over the shimmering blue of his eyes, toughening the mellow blue. "I'll eat as much as I want and-and you can't make me feel bad about it."

Besides being awestruck, Marcel is also thoroughly offended that Louis had this much fire in him but decided all on his own to keep it a secret. However, it doesn't deter his decision to keep _that_ accomplishment all to himself.

"Babydoll." He sighs dejectedly and brings his other hand up to clasp Louis' shoulder, pulling him and his resistance into an embrace. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Lou. Forgive me. I was more than just stupid."

Louis sniffles and turns his face into Marcel's chest despite the humidity rolling over them in heat waves. He nods to prompt a signal that all has been forgiven and lightly his blunt nails scratch the back of Marcel's shirt where he's gripping the fabric like a vine.

"It's okay." He spoke softly, his personality once again small and well-kept from everyone. Louis still didn't stutter but Marcel won't bring it up. 

"Thank you." Instead the man kisses Louis' forehead and holds onto his light scent of vanilla with berries for a bit longer. He feels just as comforted having Louis in his arms. "Let's get back, okay? We've got a bit of time left before we have to leave."

Once more Louis nods and their bodies part from one another in one simple break. Marcel keeps Louis' hand in his though, his longer and firmer grip surrounding the boy's whole hand. They start back up the path they descended towards the tea garden but make a left turn before that, knowing full well that abandoned food or drink never lasts in public.

Rather than letting themselves become dehydrated, Marcel purchases two bottles of chilled water from the only vendor around and hands one to Louis. They sit together on a miserably hard wooden bench and Louis crosses his legs on it, his lips wrapped around the straw of his water bottle.

He's a lot calmer now and the transformation puzzles Marcel to a great degree. Louis' skin was back to its lightly pink complexion, eyes as dull or half as bright as they were in the 'fight'. It was like the flip of a switch and Marcel was dying to know whether his voice had turned back over to a stutter or not as well.

"Lou?" He thinks hard for a decent question in the time it takes Louis to look his way. "How would you like to go to that Star Wars movie with me today?"

Louis turns in his seat, bending one knee in the air and resting it against the back of the bench. "Really?"

Marcel grabs onto hope and holds on tight. "Of course. Today will be the last showing."

Suddenly saddened by the reminder of the fate of his tickets, Louis looks down at his lap. "But we don't have tickets."

His companion is grinning from ear to ear despite the connotations of what he's just said. Faintly, Marcel can hear a hallelujah chorus in the background as he schools his expression and tilts Louis' head back up with his forefinger.

"I'll get us in, babydoll. Don't worry about that." Marcel thinks about the only solution he has to the key problem and chews nervously on his bottom lip. To hide his concerns he presses his lips to Louis' forehead and smiles when the boy does.

"What if we don't get in?" Louis poses with a quirked eyebrow of challenge.

"Simple." Marcel shrugs. "I'll fly us to whichever place in the world is showing it and we can watch it there."

Louis' giggles are animated and breathtaking, crinkles by his magnetic blue eyes and freckles becoming more pronounced. He lowers his water bottle to his knee and rests his head on Marcel's shoulder. This position practically made him and Marcel one unit. 

"Can we get popcorn at the cinema?" Louis asks, in a whisper so inaudible that Marcel almost doesn't hear it.

"You can have anything you want, babydoll." Marcel gives Louis' neck that's easily exposed to him a kiss. 

"I want popcorn?" Louis' still asking by his tone, no longer an overpowering shyness to his ways.

"Then my babydoll will have the finest popcorn in the world."

"There's no such thing!" Louis accuses, amused and delighted by the way he can't stop his stream of laughter.

Marcel scoffs in disbelief and tries to put on a show for his regal behaviour that fails. "Of course it does. It's the popcorn that you'll be having."

Shortly after their tiny argument and decidedly successful make-up, their teacher announces that they have ten minutes to round up. All that includes for the impromptu couple is dumping their empty water bottles in a nearby trashcan. Niall and Liam reappear from the crowd that's rounding up near the exit and Marcel is slightly grateful for their interruption.

"Lou." Niall has Liam's hoodie tied around his waist. "Sorry we didn't find you sooner. This place is a maze."

"Wait for me, babydoll. I need to make a call." He whispers in Louis' ear and before the boy can reply, is moving to an isolated part of the park. 

Louis' frozen words remain suspended in the air when he watches Marcel make a call, smiling weakly at him before looking elsewhere. Marcel's lips are racing as he spoke to whoever it was on the phone with him.

"Hey, Lou?" Niall distracts him from squinting against the sun's rays, grabbing hold of his best friend's arm. "It's creepy to stare at people, you know."

Unbidden, Louis' blush creeps onto his face and he smiles down at his shoes. "Not staring, Ni."

" _Observing_ , my apologies." Niall corrects himself with mocking in his tone and wipes the sheen of sweat off his brow. "Liam and I want to head back in the bus, is that okay?"

Louis shrugs. It really isn't up to him because Marcel doesn't seem to going back to school while his friends have to go in order to pick up Liam's GMC. "It's okay."

Liam makes to drape his arm around Louis' shoulder from behind, a means of saying goodbye without words. "We'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah." Louis smiles and sees them off, students filing out of the gardens onto the bus. "Bye."

He's left standing alone after the last remaining members of their school populous drag themselves onto the awaiting buses. Louis sighs softly to himself and tries avoiding Marcel's line of sight because even if he's facing a completely different direction, the ever-present scorch of two eyes staring at him is unrelenting. 

Nature is so beautiful here, so untainted. He watches the domestic monkeys jump from branch to branch, the breeze carrying those tall leaves and clumps of flowers for the birds to feed on. The wind wraps around him and blows past him, tickling the fabric of his shirt and whistling past his ears.

"I need them now." Marcel tells to Edward urgently, wanting to hurry the conversation along so Louis isn't alone for a while. 

Edward had stopped what he was doing to take his brother's desperate call. He had regretted ever doing so up until he learned it affected Louis. "Yeah. I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks." Marcel breathes out in relief. "Text me when it's confirmed?"

"Done." Edward hangs up to save himself time in the matters of the day he has to take care of.

Marcel tucks his phone away, feeling lighter on his shoulders. He jogs over to Louis where the boy stood aimlessly watching everything around him, taking Louis' hand in his to surprise him. 

"Babydoll?" He is thankful that because the day has wore on towards the afternoon, the heat has lessened and the chill breeze is settling in. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." Louis smiles confidently and his fingers flex between Marcel's, following his companion up a short path to their vehicle. 

He wanted to ask who Marcel had called and if disobedient strings had been pulled to give him this outing. The curiosity was too great as he climbed up into his seat and crossed his legs on the leather chair. Marcel closed his door for him after he'd buckled up and he turned on the AC once in the driver's seat.

"Who can get us tickets to the movie?" He chose instead to ask, deciding that it was less inquisitive.

Marcel turned into the highway that would exercise a shortcut to the nearest mall with a cinema. He smiled briefly and glanced at Louis through his peripheral vision.

"Edward." He answered as his phone started buzzing on the leather console between them. "That's him. Want to answer that for me?"

Louis nods and takes the device off the console, tapping the green button under Edward's caller identification. "Hello?"

"I got the- Louis?" Edward's tone easily morphed into confusion as the purr of a powerful engine behind him causes rustling. 

"Hi again." Louis greeted with a wide smile. It was _miraculous_ to Marcel that he didn't recognise the lack of a stutter accompanying his sweet voice. 

Edward was thoughtful enough not to bring it up either. "Y- Where's my brother?"

"Driving." Louis looks out the window at the cars next to them and the white paint separating the lanes. "He said I could answer your call."

"Of course." He heard a light chuckle. "Tell him I got the tickets and he can go anywhere to redeem them. I texted him the details."

"Okay." Louis can see the glass monument in the centre court of the mall coming into view as they pull into the underground parking. "Thank you for getting us tickets."

"You wanted them, baby. I'll get you anything you want." Edward smoothly replies to Louis' appreciation. "I have to go now, princess. Tell my brother what I said and I want you home by seven, okay?"

"Alright. Bye." Louis consents. 

"Bye, baby." 

"What did he say?" Marcel asks him before Louis can set the phone down again, now having parked them in a suitable spot.

"He texted you the details." Louis held the device out to the Styles brother while he gets his door unlocked. 

"Wait for me, babydoll." Marcel jumps off first and makes Louis wait all of two seconds to open his door and help him hop down to the ground. 

Louis accepts Marcel's hand slipping into his and their fingers lock together in a tight unit. There are no rings on Marcel's fingers so he has space to flex his fingers. The air is dry and humid so Louis feels sweat gather at his hairline immediately. He sniffles and gets pulled closer as they make their way to the main entrance.

"Do you ever think about why people open doors for others?" Louis asks once they're indoors.

He feels comfortable with Marcel walking leisurely at his side as they enter the air-conditioned mall. Comfortable enough to bring up the random topics haunting the many thoughts in his mind.

Marcel would hate more than anything to make Louis feel silly for opening up and this jewel of an experience is completely unpredictable. He's going to treasure it. "I suppose it started as chivalry, the way men stand when women get up from the table."

Louis hums as he thinks and it's a musical sound. He gets on the escalator with Marcel and refrains from touching anything as the noise from other visitors to the mall becomes apparent. "But what about the fact that you keep the other person waiting in the car while you go to open their door?"

"I don't think that's the point, babydoll." Marcel chuckles and kisses the back of Louis' hand. 

"Oh." Louis' thin, extra pink lips round themselves into a perfect circle as they come to a stop in the cinema area beside the food court. "Well never mind then."

Marcel stands behind Louis in the queue awaiting their turn for redeeming their tickets. There is no doubt that he is in awe of the boy. He mainly stares at Louis' silhouette that's delicate and full of curves in the right places, stuffed until its brimming with the most appealing personality. His companion is _precious_ and Marcel got rid of the shell that hid all his beauty. It's a victory he'll champion under his belt forever.

"Look." Louis tugs on his sleeve until Marcel snaps out of his thoughts and looks at what he wants him to. 

It turns out to merely be the movie poster and stand-up billboard for Star Wars, cut across diagonally by a ribbon that states today will be the last showings. Marcel doesn't care anymore. He wants to tackle Louis in an embrace and make him laugh forever, watch those blue eyes light up and the skin at the edges crinkle up. 

"Yes, babydoll. I see it." He laughed softly and gave Louis' palm a gentle squeeze.

If Marcel allowed himself to be another type of man for just _a moment_ he'd have pressed his lips to Louis' neck without warning and never pulled away. He instead clenched his fist and resisted any instincts his primal self had.

"What would you like for snacks besides the best popcorn in the world?" Marcel asks to start a conversation but he mainly just wants to hear Louis' voice.

Whichever deity was smiling down at Marcel in that moment allowed him to get a fair dose of Louis' laughter as well. "Can I have the best soda in the world?"

"Certainly." Marcel does have enough courage to bump Louis' cheek with the tip of his nose and smiles in a manner that hasn't been known to him in years. "How about the best chocolate bar in the world to share with me?"

"I'd like that." When Louis leans back subtly against Marcel's chest, the latter feels like he's been bestowed the highest honour in the world. 

He lightly thumbs over Louis' knuckles and with the other hand massages his side. Louis' skin is so warm and soft even with the layer of his shirt keeping bare skin contact from happening. Marcel is surprised at his own self restraint when he's got the most gorgeous human specimen in his arms.

Eventually their turn came to purchase their tickets and snacks. Marcel recites the code that Edward texted him and the woman behind the counter had to have her supervisor come to take care of their transaction. The supervisor was a little shorter than Marcel and had a full head of grey hair, a wedding ring on his slender finger and a neat red tie around his neck.

"I'm sorry, Sir." The man with a badge that revealed his name to be Alfred, wasn't displaying the politest of smiles. "These tickets have already been redeemed."

While Louis was hearing his heart break into many pieces, Marcel took out his phone and dialled Edward. He didn't look worried in the slightest while Louis fretted over this movie finally becoming taboo on him.

"Deal with this." Marcel handed the phone over to Alfred's astonished self without a greeting or explanation to Edward. 

Louis watched in opaque fascination as Alfred became doubtful from confident and he wasn't allowed to get in a word edge wise with Edward snapping at him. The entire scenario was unbelievable because of the dependency between the triplets, yet here it was. All Marcel had to do was call Edward and let his older brother handle anything. 

The reasons why they fought so much alluded Louis when Edward seemed to do everything for his brothers.

Alfred was hung up on after Edward strictly laid out what he needed to do and exactly _who_ he was doing it for. "Alright then. Here you go."

Marcel was handed the two slips of printed paper with a receipt just after the strange interaction. Louis' companion thanked him with a smile and took his iPhone back.

"Hold this for me, babydoll." Marcel gave him the large device instead of putting it away, laying out his credit card for the purchase of snacks and drinks. 

Louis just got to hold his medium serving of popcorn in one hand and Marcel's gigantic phone in the other. He walked closely with the man at his side up the steps and into the hallway that laid out thirteen cinema entrances. They stopped at a small station wrapped around a pillar to sprinkle salt and butter on their popcorn, which is when Marcel began to think his behaviour earlier was uncalled for.

"Hey babydoll." He gently - always gently - caught Louis by his elbow and drew him closer, looking down into those blue eyes as electric as marbles and studied the worry on his brow. "I'm sorry about earlier, love. I just didn't want to make a scene."

"It's okay." Louis shrugs and let's Marcel cup the side of his face with his palm, which is progress. "I just feel bad for Alfred."

Marcel frowns and watches Louis try not to drop his phone. The object was much too large in width and length for his dainty palms. "Who's Alfred?"

They make it to their seats in time for the opening trailers to start and Louis finds that they're tucked into a corner in a full house. He can cross his legs on the cushioned seat after toeing his shoes off and cradle the popcorn on his lap. Being so enthralled by the sci-fi capabilities of modern Hollywood, Louis doesn't even notice that Marcel was watching him and not the movie the whole time.

  
* * * * *  


"I'm so angry." Louis had just started rambling about his conflicted opinion on the movie they'd seen. It was endearing and quite literally the most lovely experience of Marcel's life. "Why did he have to be so cruel? It was his father!"

Marcel was listening to every word with a dopey little smirk plastered to his fond expression. They were grabbing dinner before leaving the mall and he got the honour of watching Louis be this animated about something. He doubts even Edward's seen this side of the boy.

"It was devastating." Louis had his arms crossed over his narrow chest with pouted lips like he'd lived and breathed the movie. "Han saved-"

"Babydoll." Marcel had to stop him when they were one person away from ordering, capturing both sides of his beautiful face in his hands. "What would you like to eat?"

"Oh." He _felt_ Louis' cheeks heat up as a light pink colour gave them more life. "I don't know."

"How about chicken and spicy rice?" Marcel offers as it's what he'll be ordering for himself. 

"Okay." Louis seemed to tone down by the vibe he gave off when clasping Marcel's hand between both of his and hiding a little in his shoulder. "Thank you."

He got a kiss on his forehead. "You're very welcome, babydoll."

Louis was silently nibbling on fries that Marcel ordered separately for no reason other than he liked to have something to eat on the way home. The radio channel they had on was closing up for the night and started to play songs they both recognised. Louis had the duty of feeding Marcel a chip everytime he stopped chewing and deviously chose to give him all the crispy ones.

The mansion is brightly lit on the outside from the main wrought iron gates to the patio above sixteen narrow marble steps. Marcel parks the SUV off beside two other monstrous vehicles and passes Louis a knowing look before hopping down. The boy is made to wait, cradling the paper bags containing their food with both hands and a subtle pout. 

"How long did I make you wait this time?" Marcel swings the passenger side door open for Louis and winks smugly at him. 

"Too long." Louis sticks his tongue out at the taller male towering over him under the twinkle of the stars and Marcel replicates the expression briefly.

Louis takes Marcel's hand that's offered to him and jumps down to the pebbles crunching under his shoes. He hands over the holder of cool beverages and clutches the bags close to his chest. They move towards the staircase and Louis jogs up each one in a hurry to get inside. The temperature has rapidly dropped to icy cold and Louis has missed Harry. 

The front door opens for them before they can reach it and Louis looks up at Edward's expectant raised eyebrow with a grin. He's not hindered by the weight of the food he's carrying and surges forward right into the man's arms.

"Hello, sweetlips." Edward chuckles and hugs Louis just as tightly, kissing his sweet boy's forehead. "You seem to have had a lot of fun today."

The eldest triplet passes the food from Louis to Marcel so he can have his boyfriend all to himself. He closes the door behind his sibling and presses Louis' back against it, an arm extended out to block him in. Louis notes that Edward looks freshly showered in a plain black T-shirt that hugs his muscular torso and abdomen. He doesn't feel _insecure_ anymore and it excites him so much.

"I did have fun." Louis is careful not to make it sound like his time was extraordinary, wringing his fingers together at the back of Edward's neck. He had to leap up on his tiptoes to be that tall. "I missed my Daddy though."

Edward hummed because hearing those words pleased him greatly. He held onto Louis' hips, supple and curvaceous under his ministrations, to bury his face in Louis' neck. "Daddy missed his princess too. All day long."

Louis let himself be hugged tightly enough that it lifted him off the ground, wrapping his legs securely around Edward's waist. He locked his arms weakly over the man's shoulders and his his identity in the fold he created. Edward rubbed his back and kissed his neck, all little things to make him feel settled.

"Tell me what you did today." Edward carried him all the way to the grand staircase in the foyer that's laden with gold-trimmed carpet and oak railings. He sat down on the third to last step and kept Louis on his lap. "I want to hear everything."

Whether he knew it or not, Edward was doing Louis' mind a great service by asking him to map out the happenings of his day. The boy hadn't been asked that in too long and the excess build-up of burdens was prone to making him feel overwhelmed. A small essential made him perk up. 

Louis narrates every detail of his day from the play production to just as he jumped out of the car on this property. He was animated and lively, a little too much sometimes so that Edward had to hold onto his waist to keep him upright. Edward was in awe of the light in Louis' eyes as he spoke, sans the barrier of a stutter or stammer. He was Godsent and Edward would worship this angel forever.

He informed Edward about the movie he watched with Marcel and was not interrupted for anything. Edward just leaned back on his elbows and observed Louis' speech. Louis even described his heartbreak at the recent Star Wars tragedy with Han Solo, then speaking of how cold it was in the cinema. 

"I'm happy for you, princess." Edward got to kiss Louis' lips tenderly with a palm cupping the boy's cheek delicately. He smiled into it and Louis blushed furiously as their lips met again and again in little pecks. 

Louis had tossled hair and wide eyes when they withdrew from one another, his cheeks a bright pink. "Are you going somewhere?"

Edward winced because he _was_ but also hoped he didn't have to go when Louis seemed so joyous. "Yes, sweetlips."

All he got was a nod and small smile from the boy in his lap. It wounded any man to see such a precious sight turn sad but try vigorously to hide it.

"Princess." Edward forced Louis to look at him. 

His fingers curled around the back of the boy's neck and tugs him forward, a thumb braced over Louis' Adam's Apple. Louis' bright and intelligent blue eyes found themselves peering wordlessly into Edward's mystified green pulsing orbs. 

"I'm sorry, sweetlips." Edward goes on to apologise, more future regrets piling onto his shoulders as he thoughtfully bit his lip. "I have to do this tonight."

"It's okay." Louis tried to convince himself. It wasn't going so well during the first try. 

"Baby, I-" Edward is at a loss for words. 

It's the first time in his life that he is this way. This wonderful boy who sat straddling his waist was fine with him going out but Edward didn't want him to be. He wanted Louis to fuss and protest so he had a reason to stay here with him. 

"Come with me." Edward blurted like an utter _fool_. 

Louis looks at him silently for a beat and then unpredictably bursts into giggles. He's covering his mouth with his hand and laughing so musically that Edward doesn't feel like he's being mocked.

"What?" Edward instead ceases Louis' obstructive wrists and tickles his sides into revealing more of his beautiful face. He pins the boy's hands behind his back and yanks him forward, their faces ending up a hair's breath apart. "Are you teasing my offer, princess?"

"No." Louis gasps and rounds his lips in a way that entices Edward. He cannot be blamed for connecting their mouths one more time hastily with a sloppy end that makes the corner of Louis' mouth damp. "I don't want to come with you, Daddy."

Edward groans and falls back against the staircase. His eyes are closed and his spine hits the edge of a step too harshly but the boy giggling on his lap makes it all painless. Louis' dainty palms are pressing into his pectorals and Edward doesn't have to crack an eyelid open to know there's a kiss coming his way. The hot breath from his boyfriend fans over his cheek before those thin, delicate lips line slot themselves into place with Edward's. 

"You have denied me, princess." Edward pulls away to say, green eyes sparkling and his large paws gripping Louis' waist tightly. "How can I go on now?"

Louis' laughter is light and travels through the abandoned halls upstairs as everything about him lights up. "You're a king! You can buy everything that's beautiful in the world to make yourself feel better."

Edward actually rolls his eyes at that suggestion and shakes his head. "I have the most beautiful creature in my lap and I didn't pay a dime."

Flames rise to Louis' cheeks and he looks down at his fingers as his blush becomes too pronounced. He felt like royalty only because Edward treated him like royalty. Any and every scar of his was healing because of the triplets. Arms wound around him and Louis settled into them, closing his eyes at Edward's Old Spice cologne.

"Come with me." Edward invited his boy again, praying that this time the answer will be different. "If you don't like it, I will bring you back."

Louis gave in because he trusted Edward with all his heart and knew the man won't back down his word. "Okay."

Someone cleared their throat and Louis jumped but Edward hadn't let him fall too far. Harry stood in the doorway to the kitchen and adjoined living room, his arms crossed and his lips set in a grim line. 

"I'm not happy with that arrangement." Harry announced with a once-over of Louis to lighten to frown on his brow. "If Louis' going then I'm coming too."

**_[A/N: PLEASE READ. I'd like to thank everyone that's been supporting me and those who have informed me when people repost/steal from my stories. It's not a good habit to rat on others but so is being dishonest. I'm pleading with you guys, please DO NOT STEAL MY IDEAS. There's no single word or selection of words to properly describe how indecent and unfair that is. Writers work hard to try perfecting their pieces and for someone to feel they have the self-appointed right to borrow ideas is disgusting. I hate to be this way but truly, it's intolerable. Please try to come up with your own ideas and I promise it will far more worthwhile. - S xx]_ **


	12. TWELVE.

**_[A/N: Hoping for drama at last *crosses fingers* - S xx]_ **

When Louis consented to accompanying Edward, and later Harry, to a social event at night he knew to expect the unexpected. He prepared himself for the worst case scenario in the form of a seedy bar or gathering across a river from an asylum but that didn't happen.

He drove with Edward in the most elegent vehicle of the Audi range he's ever seen. Not being allowed to change his clothing due to time delays left him in his T-shirt and jeans with one tiny alteration. Edward made him bring the cross necklace out from under his shirt so it was in plain sight. 

"Are you cold, sweetlips?" Edward was being his usual charming self with a bit more uptight manner about him. Louis could tell Harry being with them put him on edge and not in a protective brotherly way.

"Nope." He was content with the seat warmer and heater inside the Audi. It was being outside that bothered him. "Are you cold?"

Edward's eyes darted to side, his lips twitching into an amused smirk that lessened his tension. He braked at an intersection and Louis watched the man kiss his knuckles. All three brothers seemed to have the same tendency with him.

"Never with you, princess." Edward said to him before reaching over and kissing Louis' cheek.

Harry was in the Jeep behind them with his headlights on and revving whenever Edward took too long to move from a green light. They travelled through the neighborhood where the Styles mansion was situated and on into the city filled with skyscrapers and industries. Edward surpassed all the luxury tall buildings and turned into the darkest street still in the elite part of town.

"Where are we?" Louis didn't plan to ask but the loud music causing his glasses to vibrate and the loud bickering or shouts from scantily dressed patrons made him wary. 

Ahead of them was nothing but pitch black after their and Harry's headlights went off. Crickets added to the echo of the night but even the streetlights weren't working. Medium-sized buildings were abandoned on either side except for one, the one hosting the party that everyone seemed to be at.

A red neon sign labelled the club as _Raze_ and it had a font of dripping blood or plain goo. Louis had chills looking at it. The people in the queue went around the corner because of its length and a frightening bouncer awaited them at the door.

"I don't want to go in there." Louis shook his head as Edward cut off the engine and looked at him a little stunned. 

"Princess." Edward took Louis' hand and sighed at his precious boyfriend's worried eyes. "It's not scary, I promise."

The loud bursts from the crowd made him uneasy, the whistling wind far more so. This was the cliche environment of the bad crowd and Louis was petrified of it. The alcohol was always spiked to give an extra edge to those who consumed it. Everything involved was intoxicated and ravished by an evil nature.

Someone tapped Louis' window and he screamed. He wasn't able to help himself and was already on edge from the unstable, intoxicated atmosphere of this place. 

"Shh. It's okay." Edward didn't find this reaction unreasonable and leaned over to unlock Louis' door. "It's just Harry, sweetlips."

The door was pried open and Harry let in the sound of thumping music with the shrill background noise of the drunken public. He blocked out most of that drama with his broad stature and hardened expression, darkening Louis' shadow. 

"What's going on?" He asked tensely with a clenched jaw and eyes that were near black in colour. 

"I don't want to go anymore." Louis shook his head to be more convincing, the sting in the back of his eyes ready to spring forth his tears if he was still dragged out. 

Harry looked at him and everything about his toughened nature softened for the boy. He looked at his brother. "Were you going to force him?"

"No." Edward snapped at his very trying sibling who leaned against the frame of Louis' door. "We were negotiating what happens next."

"It's simple enough." Harry stepped back with his lips tightly zipped, taking Louis' hand and tugging him to the ground. "I'm taking him home. Have fun."

Edward swears there were moment he could blow a hole through Harry's skull and never feel remorse. Now was one of those times. He growled frustratedly and hurt the inside of his palm when he slammed them onto the steering wheel. Before Louis could be taken away, he jumped out of the Audi and met them halfway to Harry's Jeep.

"Wait." He caught Louis' arm and surprised Harry into letting go briefly, drawing the boy further into his arms. Edward looked down into Louis' frightened and apologetic eyes, feeling like he could read every emotion. "I'm not upset, princess."

"You're not?" Louis' nose was red from the cold and Edward kissed his cheek to find them just as chilled as the wind. "I made you drive all the way here and-"

"Shh." Edward framed his gorgeous visage and attached his lips to Louis' forehead, hiking the boy's glasses further up the bridge of his nose for him. "Go home and sleep...-"

Louis frowned confusedly at Edward's sudden pause. "What's wrong?"

Edward had looked up at his younger brother trying very hard to make his only display of anger be the balled up fists at his sides. Harry was glowering in his direction and if anyone hadn't known better, might categorise them as the foulest enemies. 

"Sleep in Harry's room tonight, princess." Bringing his gaze back down to Louis, Edward witnessed Harry's expression become baffled. "I don't want to wake you at whatever hour I get home."

"Really?" Louis was worried that Edward still hadn't forgiven him for being such a nuisance. "I don't mind you waking me up."

Edward found it in him to laugh and kiss Louis' parched lips firmly one last time for the night. He nuzzled his boyfriend's neck affectionately and nibbled on the love-bite he knew wasn't amplified by his good self. 

"Sweet, sweet boy." Edward picked his gaze up over Louis' frail shoulder to look at Harry glaring back at him. "Give Lou my other phone. I'll call you before you go to sleep, okay baby?"

Louis nods with half a smile that doesn't reach his eyes because it can't render that much joy all at once. "Okay."

"Go now." He patted Louis' hip and encouraged him back into Harry's protection. "I'll see you in the morning, princess."

  
* * * * *  


Louis stayed silent all through their drive back to the mansion, allowing himself to wallow in self pity. He played with his fingers on his lap while Harry switched on the radio to fill their awkward quietness. The man drove smoothly through the streets and never once opened his mouth. 

"Harry?" Louis looked up when the tension was stifling and tangible. 

He was much less relaxed being in this brother's presence currently because of how _angry_ Harry seemed to be from the time they saw one another this evening. The last thing Louis wanted to do as antagonise a man twice his size. 

"Kitten?" Harry rolled down his window at their gates to enter a code into the intercom. His voice was tight and a little strangled.

"Are you okay?" He changed the direction of this conversation when he really got a look at the gaunt twinkle in Harry's eye that seemed to be the only thing with life in him.

"Yes." Harry had entered the code wrong and swore loudly before re-typing it, knuckles white against the leather clad steering wheel. _"Fuck!"_

Louis jumped a little in his seat from the sudden exclamation and immediately looked away out the window. He stares at his lap while he wrestles internally with why he's the reason for Harry's fuming nature. "I won't sleep in your room if it makes you feel better."

Harry accelerates jerkily into their property and swears again when the act causes the engine to cut off. He probably didn't hear Louis because he doesn't answer for the entire duration of time it takes to successfully park the Jeep outside the garage. 

Without wasting more breath although Louis desperately wants to reconcile with Harry, he fumbles with the heavy door before jumping down. "S-Sorry."

The night can't get any darker but Harry certainly feels like the beast it has been hiding when he watches Louis race up the stairs and disappear behind the front door. He sighs and falls back in his leather seat with a wince and audible hiss of pain, reaching behind him to mindlessly massage at the sore spot in his back.

Today was his appointment with the finest chiropractor in the city to deal with the relentless pain in his back. For as long as he can remember he's had a bad back with thrusts of anguish everytime he exercised it too much. Recently it's gotten to be much worse and the lack of painkillers led to his foul mood.

Louis hadn't wasted time with distraction when he entered his temporary home for the week, and jogged up the staircase where he and Edward sat earlier. He got up to the second floor and kept his gaze lowered to keep the sting out of his eyes, the hurt accumulating in him and self-hatred becoming too much all at once.

Marcel was nowhere to be seen but the television was blaring something in the living room so Louis assumed he was there. He raced first to Edward's room where all his stuff rested and closed the door soundle behind him like the barrier would keep any threats out.

For an hour, Louis was to himself. He showered with a permanently quivering lip and burned his skin with how steaming hot the water was. He used Edward's body gel, or rather the body gel that Edward had purchased _for him_ over the weekend. It smelled like raspberries and citrus which relaxed Louis' nerves.

After his shower Louis intended to stay holed up in Edward's room where Harry didn't have to put up with him. He already felt miserable for being so impulsive and then changing his mind. Harry had to drive behind them and then drive back before he could see anything of what the venue was. He probably despised Louis' nonsense by now.

Louis was pulling his softest sweatpants out of his bag and prying one of Edward's faded T-shirts off a hanger. He's a little damp from the residual water of his shower and a sound knock on the door spooks him into dropping his towel.

"Yes?" He hastily puts on his comfy clothing for the night and pads barefoot over to the sealed door.

He hears a thump from someone's forehead landing against it gently. "Open the door, kitten."

Louis took a step back first, his heart beating against the walls of his constricting ribcage. "Did I do something wrong?"

Harry chuckles but it's a little hoarse from his recent dose of medication to numb the pain in his lumbar region. "No, baby. You didn't do anything wrong and I'm not upset with you."

Convinced by this confession, Louis unlocks the door and let's Harry walk in after swinging it open. He shuffles backwards and pulls Edward's sleeves over his hands to cloak them. Harry steps closer to him and shuts the door gently afterwards, thickening the air with a clearing of his throat.

Looking down at his bare feet, Louis can't help but harbour the feeling of uneasiness. Thankfully, Harry's shadow soon invades that privacy and a large familiar hand comes up to the side of his face. Louis sucks in a sharp breath and resists the urge to free himself when those slim fingers curl around the back of his neck.

"Come on, kitten." Harry's lips are at his temple, soft and a little sticky. His eyes are squeezed shut. "You smell like something I could eat."

Louis giggles easily at that comment and Harry makes to hug him around his shoulders, his face burrowed into Louis' neck. "It's raspberry and you can't _eat_ me."

Harry hums lowly and withdraws with a devilish smirk thatt makes Louis blush brightly, prominently. He winks at the turbulent blue of the boy's eyes and Louis has to look away, smothering his shy smile. 

"I have this for you." Harry holds up his finger and opens the door again behind him before grappling for something to his right. 

That's when Louis really looks up at him, amused from the start by the man's antics. He's trying very hard not to laugh at Harry's comical expression of a bitten lip and furrowed brow. Louis also sees that he's got wet hair slicked back on his head and an especially clean look about him, skin a little flushed at his neck. Harry's ratty graphic T-shirt has tiny holes in them at his torso. 

"Ah." He retracts his hand from the search and displays a tall glass of slightly frothing milk with a straw in it. 

"Milk?" Louis isn't so rude to not accept the offering of a treaty and takes the giant glass in both hands of his, feeling that the milk has been warmed. 

"Yeah." Harry nervously scratched the back of his neck with a less than confident smile. "I stole Marcel's secret formula for making it with honey and cinnamon."

It was Louis' turn to hum and swirl the straw a little to have something to do. "Thank you."

"What were you going to do now?" Harry asks him after a quick check of the time on his phone. "It's still early, kitten."

"Homework." Louis chirps then becomes solemnly silent. "But my bag is-"

"In my room." Harry finishes for him, stepping to the side so Louis had space to walk out with him. "Let's go there. I _was_ promised you for the whole night."

Harry ended his statement with a smug little smile teasing the curve of his plump lips, holding his hand out for Louis to take. Louis clutches his glass of milk with his insufficiently sized right hand whilst Harry clasps his other. He's led down the hallway to Harry's room after ensuring that Edward's door is closed again.

"I hear tomorrow's going to be the day of the sun's revenge on us." Harry lamely attempts to initiate a conversation as he takes Louis into his personal haven. 

Louis looks around the interior of this room and giggles. He sees his book bag on the ground by Harry's messy desk and makes his way over to it.

"What?" Harry chuckles at Louis' reaction while he falls onto his bed, lying back to tap away on his phone whilst facing the ceiling. 

Louis shuffles through his things in his bag and creates himself a small pile of books including the work he has to do. Harry's got his own work from advanced graphical engineering class splayed across the table that he tries not to upset when neatening.

"You're asking me about the weather." Louis' eyes are alight with mirth when he looks over his shoulder at Harry that squints back at him. 

"And?" Harry scoffs and pulls himself upright with an unnoticed wince that twists up his face in pain. 

He saunters over to where Louis is about to sit and catches him in a hostile manner around his waist. Louis gasps and supports himself with a tight grip on Harry's forearms, his giggles escalating in volume as Harry sways them a little. The soft cotton fabric of Louis' shirt bunches up under Harry's fingers, his supple flesh beneath it warm and tender.

"No one asks about the weather anymore." Louis closes his eyes and let's Harry nuzzle his neck, the man's exerted forcefulness soothing him. 

"I do." Harry blocks out his scrunched up expression in Louis' neck while he lifts Louis off the ground and his spine protests greatly with rusted nerves creaking agonisingly. 

He sits in his kingly leather chair with Louis planted securely without excuse in his lap. The cushioned seat is merciful on his suffering lumbar section, and Harry sits back against it with a content sigh. He pulls the chair forward so Louis could be close enough to the table, the more delicate male situated on Harry's thighs.

"You do EGD." Louis picks up one of Harry's technical drawings of a fantasy building that's thirty levels high and terribly intricate. "I didn't know."

Harry pretends to be outraged and gasps loudly enough for Louis to notice. "I am offended that you know so little about me, kitten."

Louis laughs and shifts in Harry's lap, in his warm embrace. He's leaning back against something far more comfortable than any texture. Harry's body is curved to fit against his and one arm belts around his waist, a chin hooked over Louis' shoulder.

"Tell me more about you." Louis sips some of the milk from the straw and Harry observes him in scribbling down answers to questions without reading them more than once. 

Harry instead forgets the request for a short moment and time lapses for ten minutes while Louis finishes up his homework. Just after that he gets a boy suddenly tucked into his arms and under his chin like it's his _home._

"I like-" Harry kisses Louis' forehead over his fringe and once again when he hears a muffled giggle. "-blue eyes and chestnut hair."

Louis is always modest but he recognises a description of himself when he hears it. Nonetheless, none of adjectives Harry used were flattering beyond measure. He curls up into the smallest form he can with his knees folded and head resting on Harry's sturdy shoulder. The man was easily protective of him, the arm banded around his waist assuring him of that.

"Are you amused?" Harry teasingly punished Louis' flirty muffled laughter by leaning in and nipping at the tip of the boy's nose. "Are my interests funny to you?"

Harry growls when Louis tries freeing himself and gets batted away when he bites a little too hard on the bridge of his victim's nose. Louis pouts though he can't perceive the faint teeth marks there on the rosy skin. He doesn't hold a grudge by the way he pokes Harry's sternum with a harmless fingertip.

"Why didn't you come to school today?" Louis asks while Harry uses an arched remote to draw the deep purple curtains over the windows. He watches the moonlight disappear and plunge the room into blackness.

"Did you miss me, kitten?" Harry wakes up from the chair but overestimates his carrying capacity and stumbles with Louis in his arms. "Ow- _fuck_!"

Louis keeps from falling when he frees himself. Harry grips the edge of the table and Louis' shoulder that puts more weight than the boy can handle on him. 

"Are you okay?" Louis asks hurriedly, worry lacing the words in his question. His small but not ineffective palm grazes Harry's cheek in an effort to lift him up. 

Those blue, blue eyes as fierce as the stormiest seas from the seven of them read Harry's pain like a monologue. Louis makes no room for argument and helps Harry to the bed, almost falling himself when he lowered the stronger individual onto the mattress. 

"Is it your back?" Louis asks, more concerned now. He is standing over Harry at the edge of the bed with his hands perched on his full, feminine hips. 

Harry is blown away by the power of Louis' authority over him. "Yeah."

Louis chews the inside of his cheek as he thinks. "Can you roll over?"

Harry is still half a charmer and half a fool pining after one magnificent boy so he isn't to be blamed for the suggestive smirk he puts on. "What do you mean to do with me, kitten?"

Louis laughs but it's quick and ends in a furious blush colouring his cheeks after. He does roll his eyes after regaining his standing and helps Harry turn over onto his front carefully. A swift visit to the en-suite bathroom has him returning with the appropriate painkillers, vapour rub and a heat patch.

He almost drops everything when he realises that this course of treatment requires Harry without a shirt and a massage. Louis is thankful for the blinding darkness when he sits on the bed next to Harry's hip, legs folded under himself. He nearly losing the air in his lungs when a strong hand grabs the calf of his leg. 

"What's wrong?" He immediately enquires to ensure that nothing further has begun to hurt Harry.

"Nothing." Those fingers on his leg flex, fanning out and tightening around him. "Just wanted to touch you."

Louis freezes for a moment and smiles to himself in the silent room. He is careful when lifting Harry's shirt and the toned skin underneath comes into his view, the surface overheated and throbbing. Louis removes some of the vapour rub from the container, the wintergreen scent knocking out his senses. 

He takes a deep breath and lands the cool gel on the small of Harry's back. "Here?"

"Yeah." Harry's voice was strangled but it didn't stem from being looked after. 

Louis rubbed the ointment into Harry's skin as best he coul without shaking with nerves. It was terrifying to touch this part of someone else, have them want his touch on them too. He swallowed thickly but the lump didn't go down. 

After being satisfied that there was enough vapour rub massaged into the muscled back of Harry's body, Louis peeled off the plastic of the heat patch. He had flaming cheeks from the constant moans and groans coming from his informal patient, his fingers shivered as his lips did when he tried to control them.

Louis managed to stick the heat patch over the right region and flatten it with a smoothing of his palms. He pulled Harry's shirt back down to cover up and pulled the sheets over the man. Screwing the lid back on the vapour rub and waking up with the wastage from the heat pack, Louis doesn't count on Harry ceasing him by his wrist.

He looks down at the man on the bed, lying still on his front with glistening eyes peering up at him. "Thank you, kitten."

The gratitude was enough to make Louis' heart soar. He grinned and felt proud of himself. "You're welcome."

"Wait." Harry stops Louis from moving any further away. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get you water." Louis reassures him with the faintest of smiles. "You need to take the painkillers."

Harry let's him go after that and soon has to digest two strong reputable white pills with a sip of water. He hardly has to _convince_ Louis to follow him into bed after the boy's brushed his teeth but he does shuffle a lot until they're positioned correctly.

It might be the highly influential drugs in his system but Harry is going to rely solely on Louis to heal. He asks that Louis kick aside his pillows so Harry could rest on him. The boy was reluctant but Harry threatened to start walking around if he didn't obey.

Louis neatly stocked the pillows around them like a miniature fort. He lays on his back curled around the top of the fort to close it off nearest to the headboard. Harry's head was cradled by Louis' softer than a cloud exterior, his face buried in the boy's tummy. The man was still on his front and not discouraged from trapping the boy with his arms. 

"Are you asleep, kitten?" Harry asked after a while. His eyes were closed and his calm breathing was stable, making him so peaceful.

"No." Louis stuffed a feather pillow under his head and with his free hand mindlessly brushed through Harry's silky curls, draping the shoulder-length deep brown locks over his hip. "Are you asleep yet?"

"No." Harry repeated Louis' answer with a chuckle. "I'm not that tired actually."

"Oh." His companion's touch was so graceful that Harry had to lean into it, encourage Louis not to stop. "Me too."

"Let's do something." Harry suggests, not moving an inch more than the drag of his licked lips across the _tiniest_ peek of Louis' skin on his abdomen. 

"No moving though." Louis warns the man before he can attempt anything risky. 

"Yes, doctor." 

Harry has enough strength and focus to blow a a raspberry into that one patch of exposed honeyed skin. He takes comfort and grins, appeased, when Louis giggles and squirms from his attack. After Louis settles down and Harry draws his covers back up to conceal his lower half, they meld into the silence.

"How about a game, kitten?" Harry feels relief flood the sore and attacked muscles of his back, loosening the tightness and easing up on the frayed nerves.

"What kind of game?" Louis shifts onto his back and Harry nuzzles his tummy some more, not opening his eyes for fear of loosing the intensity from one touch sense. 

"A simple one." Harry knows Louis is lying as lazily as him, eyes closed and fingers stilling in his hair. "Pick a nickname, kitten."

"For what?" Louis' finger conceals itself in the twirl of one of Harry's curls. 

"For me." Harry would be winking if he had his eyes open. 

He had made his spot on Louis' front warm enough to be comfier than any pillow, and the scent of Louis' whole body was the most relaxing essence to ever come over his senses. Harry circled his arms around and under Louis' waist, taking all the comfort for himself.

"H." Louis says after many seconds of thought in his own head, a reminiscent smile tugging on his lips.

"H." Harry repeats in contemplation. "It makes me sound like a tattooed gangster."

Louis giggles and yawns behind his closed fist, wiping the tears off as they threaten to roll down his cheeks. "Aren't you a tattooed gangster?"

"Oh." Harry laughs when Louis teases him, digging his fingers into the boy's sides and playfully punishing him. "Where did all this sass come from tonight, kitten?"

Louis can't roll away effectively because of the weight from a heavier individual relying on him. His thrill fades away slowly as Harry releases him from his trial, sheer glee present on his features and in the ocean view of his eyes. It became evident to him that pure laughter and detaching from the world is very possible.

"Come here." Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and had a hidden agenda in the glint of his eye when he shifted closer to Louis.

"Harry!" Louis protested against the man moving at all.

"Yeah, I know. Hush, kitten." Harry dragged himself over to where Louis' upper half was curled up surrounded by a palace of pillows.

His arms shook and the strained crease of his knitted brow didn't ease one bit. Louis was terrified about Harry hurting himself further by being careless but the man himself didn't seem to care. Thoughts and worry flew out the window when Harry's mouth crashed down on his, suffocating his concentration. 

Louis couldn't help the surprised little noise that fell from his lips but he knew he was kissing back. He was involved enough to let his arms tighten around Harry's shoulders after they found the courage to edge their way up there. Harry bit his lip and Louis mewled, imprisoned under the man's shadow and presence.

Harry's lips were far more skilled than Louis and he allowed that strategy to show. He lowered himself into Louis' personal space and took advantage of the boy's pleasant gasp, licking into the confines of his sweet mouth. His tongue wasn't met with much of a battle as Louis submitted instantly, fingers loosely trapped in Harry's hair. 

It was a pained struggle to withhold all the plans Harry could come up with to treat Louis like the beauty he was. He knew the boy wasn't ready and would chuck himself off a bridge before he pressured his kitten into something.

"I plan to spend the rest of my life kissing you." Harry informs Louis just after they part to breathe, lips still aligned and pressed together. 

He doesn't allow a word from Louis and greedily tastes more of the boy with just this innocent union. Louis' fingers entangle with his and end up pressed into the mattress, moans being passed between the wet surfaces of their tongues. Harry rolls his body against Louis', not to entice or scare him but merely ensure his hips were encased by Louis' thighs on either side.

"Skip school tomorrow." Harry says between kisses. "Be mine-" Kiss. "-for the day."

Louis gets space to breathe when Harry withdraws but all he can smell is Harry's subtle shower gel and his breath mingling with Harry's. A string of saliva still joins their swollen lips when they part, one that Harry swipes away with the pad of his thumb from the corner of his mouth. 

When it's gone he acts on a ravenous impulse and unites their lips again, messily pinning Louis down to explore him. The boy gave in so easily, trusting Harry with tiny flicks of his tongue and small rolls of his tongue along the man's. It defeated the purpose for when Harry finally separates, he can still taste Louis on his lips and has successfully let the boy into his head.

Louis is dishevelled and _tempting_. His shirt has ridden up far more and exposed all of his delicious tummy, precious soft skin pressed against Harry's hard torso. Those tranquil blue eyes have been overturned and he has red, nearly bruised lips from the fierce snog. Harry loves the sight. 

"You okay, kitten?" Harry bumps their noses together and masks the trembling of his shoulders by constantly shifting them. 

"Yeah." Louis blinks a few times and his cheeks are so rosy, pure pink. He smiles to reassure Harry that he's mentally present and gets an Eskimo kiss from the man above him. "I like your kisses."

Harry is most flattered by this compliment and flashes a blinding smile, dimples and bright eyes. "That's wonderful, kitten, because I intend on giving them to you every chance I get."

They settle in to actually sleep after Louis pecks Harry's nose and the man rolls his eyes, full of fondness. He plants himself in the best position to bury his face in Louis' front, continually licking his lips to reserve the remnants of the finest taste under the skies.

  
* * * * *  


Edward got home at an odd minute to three in the morning and Marcel was there playing the role of a very unimpressed parent. He met his older brother at the door and halted the slightly staggering, exhausted kin of his.

"Ugh." Edward groaned the minute he saw Marcel with crossed arms and a scowl. "Isn't it past your bed time?"

Marcel ignored the sarcasm. "You always call. What the Hell happened this time?"

"Uh." Edward missed the rack for his jacket and let it fall to the ground. "I didn't."

"What the-" Marcel swallowed his disdain at the stiffness of Edward's right arm and the obvious red blotching around that shoulder. "You did something?"

"No." Edward rolled his head on his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "Got shot."

"Fuck." 

Marcel gave Edward a warning look not to stop him when he pulled the neckline of his brother's shirt to the side and revealed the giant gauze taped to his shoulder. It was fresh and not soiled yet so Edward had come home straight from the hospital probably. 

"Does it hurt?" Marcel asks worriedly, wanting to kick Edward when he heard him scoff. "Still, I mean. Does it _still_ hurt?"

"Little bit." Edward covered the injury with his hand after Marcel stepped back. "Where's Louis?"

"Harry's room." Marcel answers shortly. "Do you need anything? Painkillers or-" 

"I'm fine." Edward waved off the concern and dumped his boots at the door before walking into the lounge like he was invincible. 

Edward collapsed onto the couch in front of a muted television and Marcel brought him a bottle of water with pain relief tablets. 

"I said-"

"Oh fuck. I know what you said." Marcel snapped at him and dropped the tab of pills on Edward's chest. "Just take the damn things."

"You're worried about me." Edward teased Marcel's concern when he had his younger sibling seated beside him. 

Marcel made a disgusted sound and shoved Edward in the rib. "I am. You're so careless, jackass."

Edward laughed and played the nuisance by resting his head on Marcel's shoulder. "I appreciate your concern."

"No, you don't." Marcel sighed. "If you did, you'd stop doing this."

Marcel stood up and left the living room wordlessly with Edward sitting astounded within it.


	13. THIRTEEN.

**_[A/N: To set the record straight, the triplets are in fact human, my lovelies. I actually hadn't considered making them anything undead/inhuman butttt you never know. Any guesses on Edward's occupation? (LouisTwinklinson is not allowed to answer this question ;D) - S xx]_ **

Harry made waffles with Louis for breakfast the next morning. It was a circumstance where he took credit for making the Belgian treat, before Louis walked in. The boy was an ethereal _vision_ in socks and a plain T-shirt, slacks to cover his thighs when nobody wanted him to that. He found the frozen toaster waffle box in the bin and showed Harry with a pout. 

"You said you made them." He crossed his legs on the stool upon which he sat, a rare complexity that contributed to how _dainty_ he was.

Harry shrugs noncommitally and slides across to Louis a plate with equal portions of food as he. Two fluffy golden waffles with berries and honey. He stood across from Louis which made him feel closer to the boy just because he could lean forward and peck those thin, syrupy lips without warning.

"Do you remember when I took you to meet my friends, kitten? The ones at the race track." Harry asks while Louis cuts a small piece of waffle with the side of his fork. 

Louis looks up with a little golden dollop on his bottom lip, but that's easy to forgive when he has the brightest eyes and is nodding so eagerly. 

"Would you like to visit them again after school today?" Harry swipes the sticky substance off Louis' lip and licks his thumb clean, the taste left behind on his tongue.

"Okay." Louis smiles like Harry's proposed they go on a free tour across Europe, and giggles when the man awards him a tender kiss. "How's your back feeling?"

"Definitely better." Harry looks at the time on the microwave and turns back to Louis. "It thanks you for your handiwork last night, kitten."

Louis is blushing profusely and bright red under the scrutiny of Harry's mirthy gaze. Marcel comes strolling into the kitchen at that moment, a sight for sore eyes as he was shirtless with messy hair and his usual elegant glasses. 

"Hello there." Marcel stopped beside Louis and gave him a firm, delayed kiss on his forehead. "G'morning, babydoll."

"Hi." Louis enjoyed the scent that always came with the youngest triplet. It was a mixture of crisp apples and cinnamon. 

Marcel was reluctant to leave Louis like that when the boy looked so soft and glowed from the inside with delicate features illuminated by the warm sun peeking through their curtains. He decided to stay despite Harry's frown and sat down across his grumpy brother.

"Louis?" Marcel pushes his glasses up and cracks his knuckles, watching his brother withdraw from the counter to prepare coffee. "Don't you have the same Chemistry assignment I do?"

"Um-" Louis didn't _forget_. He just had all his materials and dusty laptop in the house he grew up in, which meant he'd have to make a plan to retrieve them. "Yeah. I'll have it done."

After that uncertainty, Marcel knew not to further antagonise Louis on the subject. He also knew that he had to help the boy adjust to living here because under Edward's orders was he to stay here for as long as possible, even under the pretense of lies and deceit.

Harry handed Louis a chilled glass of orange juice with pulp still floating around in the liquid, signalling its freshness. He popped a straw in it for the boy because a late night confession revealed to him that Louis quite liked the instruments. Louis had only eaten three quarters of a waffle, all the berries on his plate and sipped his orange juice while looking outside.

"Good morning." He heard Harry greet someone and spun around a little obviously excited, hoping it was Edward.

It wasn't anyone except their loyal housekeeper making her way to the laundry room. Louis tried not to let his deflated mood show all that much because he had two equally brilliant men with him presently. However, he did want to say goodbye to Edward before he went to school with Harry.

"Take this up to Edward, kitten." Harry was giving him a steaming mug of black coffee straight from the maker, no additives. 

Marcel looked to be keeping something back when Louis slid off his perch and took the mug with him, wrapping both hands around the object. He was without shoes and took the steps one by one instead of racing up like he normally would. The coffee was so dark that he could see his reflection in the surface of it.

Edward's door was closed but not locked. Louis still knocked on the wooden barrier and waited, after no response he peeked in by creating a small gap. The room was silent and black from having the curtains closed, just the hum of the air-conditioner brought to life. Louis quietly stepped into the room and preserved the cool air by shutting the door behind him. 

"Edward?" He shuffled slowly, cautiously towards the bed where there was sign of life only in the form of a human shape covered by comfortable sheets.

He couldn't see much and risked burning himself by tripping over Edward's discarded clothing all the way to the bedside. Louis set the coffee down on Edward's nightstand and tugged lightly on the lampshade's string to bring some brightness. 

It fought off enough of the encompassing darkness so that Louis could see Edward lying on his front in the middle of the bed. He was covered up to his waist in black bedsheets and was bare from there up. Tattoos in black ink only littered the man's back, cascading in the artful outline of a skeleton over porcelain skin. Each knob of his spine, the dorsal view of his ribcage, up into his scapullas and ending at his neck. 

Louis felt his cheeks heat up and the pink shade of them brighten as he figured that he was watching Edward sleep. How creepy. He looked down to make sure the coffee mug wasn't too close to the edge and screamed bloody murder.

There's a spotless, shining gun right next to the mug Louis brought in himself, the separate magazine that's filled with golden bullets laying next to the fire arm. 

Seeing frightens Louis to no discernable degree and he wakes Edward up with his scream. The man jolts upright and sees Louis desperately scrambling back, tripping on discarded jeans and falling to the floor. He hurries out of bed with an inconsiderate ache in his shoulder, his feet just touching the ground when he grabs onto the slender waist that's covered in _soft_ fabric.

"Louis?" He has to unsteadily blink away the unfocused glaze over his eyesight, clinging to the supple and sweet hips caught up in his arms. He had to keep him here.

"Y-You have a gun." Louis shakes in Edward's arm, trying to fend him off when all the man does is hold on tighter.

"Yes." Edward presses his face into Louis' back. "You screamed so loudly, baby. Are you hurt?"

"No." 

Louis relaxed very little in his arms, nails trying to pry Edward's grip off his body. Edward internally cursed himself for not hiding the weapon last night to save himself the drama he's about to face with a fucked up shoulder.

" _Fuck_ , Louis. Calm down, baby." Edward's expression scrunched up to tolerate the excrutiating pain that rocketed up the skeleton of his spine. 

He yanked Louis back onto the bed with him, swearing over a dozen times when the wound in his shoulder protested against all his movements. Louis whined when his back hit the mattress and he was nailed to it by a heavier body pinning him down.

Hovering over him was Edward, something darkening the already piercing black of his eyes as he rested all his weight on one elbow. That arm shivered with pressure and strain, the bandage on his shoulder soiled properly with blood seeping through it. Louis choked on a gasp when he saw it, going pliant as he observed the gruesome injury.

"What happened?" He let Edward fall onto his back beside him with a bothered groan, suffering one last angonising strain of muscle where the tissue was shredded. 

Louis was concerned and no longer worried about the gun just next to his head. He pulled himself up and rolled over to straddle Edward's hips, chewing his lip in thought. 

"Nothing, princess." Edward smiled but it was a lie and Louis could tell. His fully functioning arm let his hand rest on the lovely boy's hip, thumb brushing back and forth over smooth skin. 

Louis' fingers strayed and went to trace over the destroyed bandage, taped gauze over an open injury. He glances back at the spot on this vast bed where Edward was sleeping and spotted red blotches on the expensive linen. 

"You got hurt." Louis says softly, kindly. His eyes are just as gentle with a little sapphire flame within a crystal globe. 

" 'fraid so, princess." Edward smirks proudly. This isn't his worst injury and it probably won't be his last one.

"Did you go to the hospital?" Louis asks next, bringing himself closer by leaning in and using two hands to inspect the gauze.

Edward got lost in watching Louis with just one source of light gracing the beautiful planes of skin and curves of his features. "Uh- I did...go to the hospital."

Louis looks up without tilting his head back and Edward thinks his end is near from how soft and warm everything about Louis is. "Can I change your bandage?"

"Go ahead but-" Edward catches the front of Louis' shirt when the boy so eagerly slides off him. "-I want my kiss first. I woke up to you screaming and still haven't gotten any love from you, sweetlips."

Louis is pouting when he bends over the edge of the bed and kisses Edward tenderly, a hand on the man's jaw and one resting on his torso. Edward tastes of sleep and faintly toothpaste when Louis let's him into the confines of his mouth.

In the en-suite bathroom Louis grabs the first aid kit from under the counter along with what he sees tossed onto it. They seem to be the painkiller prescription for Edward and briefly how many times he needs to redress the small gauze. Louis reads through it, snatches up the bottle of pills with a glass of water and walks back into the bedroom.

"I'm back." He announces whilst crawling back onto the bed, blushing when Edward winks at him.

"And aren't you a sight to behold." Edward can only wrap one arm around Louis' waist and it gnaws at his usual possessive nature. 

Louis lays the essentials out and makes sure the bin is in sight. He sits back on Edward's thighs while the man hauls himself up against the headboard. The lovely boy in his lap makes him comfortable first with a pillow behind his back and giving him a kiss when Edward started to disapprove of the coddling.

"I'm not letting you go to school today." Edward doesn't wince when Louis peels the sticky bandage off him and dabs some cotton wool in an antispetic. 

Questioning blue eyes meet his domineering emeralds. Louis cleans up around the fleshy would that's stitched closed, no complaints or disgust. "I have to go to school."

"Unfortunately not, princess." Edward let's his hands fall as low on Louis' back as they can, fingertips _aching_ to inch closer to what feels like the finest behind he'll ever want. "If I'm stuck in this bed for a day, I want you to be stuck in it with me."

Louis giggles at Edward's charming statement and dumps all the wastage into the bin. He cuts a fresh piece of cotton gauze and folds it over to be thick enough, taping the edges to leave it firm. Edward watches him work in small, precise motions and plays with the mental image of old women to keep from getting hard right under the pretty boy.

"All done." Louis declares when he's finished, squeaking when he's tugged forward to find his lips against Edward's.

Edward groans into Louis' mouth and guides the frailer arms of his delicate boyfriend over his shoulders. He skips the curve of Louis' pert bottom and grips his thighs with hungry fingertips, jerking the whole body of Louis forward. Louis gives in and Edward feels like he's in Olympus. 

Louis is the sweetest presence between Edward's one limp arm and the other protective one. He has to tilt his head back for Louis to gain the courage he's always hidden, deepening their kiss. He's so powerful and yields so much of Edward's control. Louis parts his lips and Edward's tongue plunges into his mouth, lifting the taste of honey and a twisted sourness. He's the best experience in the world.

Before he can stop it or slow down, Edward can hear blood pumping in his veins and can feel it racing through him like wild horses. He gets up on his knees with Louis wrapped around him and lowers them both to the mattress again. They lay diagonally and without the sheets from earlier. Edward savours the wonder that is Louis with his legs around him and shirt rucked up to just under his armpits.

The first sound he gets from Louis is a breathless whimper and Edward swoops in to swallow the sound, getting high from the feeling it gives him. Louis' hands are on his back and his body is aligned with Edward's, his consent spoken with closed eyes and eager pants.

Edward can't feel the pain in his shoulder or the migraine from before. Louis is his delectable, blue-eyed painkiller with soft eyes and a smooth voice. He is the beauty that Edward gets in his bed and Edward doesn't need drugs to feel so blissful. His palms slide over the curves of Louis' body, precious body, from knees to hips. 

Starved and raving mad, Edward kept pushing Louis' shirt further and further up his body. He got the whole expanse of the boy's front bare, exposed just for him. Louis' breath hitched in his throat and he dared to look down where Edward's lips trailed wetly down to his tummy. Edward opened his eyes and felt a sensation twisting in his abdomen, a greedy one. 

Louis' body was perfect, flushed skin and a heaving chest. He had the faintest traces of unshaven baby hair that's bronze and unrecognizable unless Edward dragged his lips over the places that had it. Two sensitive, pink nipples on either side of a shallow dip that determined his sternum. He was _extraordinary_ and Edward's done nothing to deserve him.

It what it must be like to reach the ultimate high when Edward feels a colder, smaller hand grappling for his. Louis is arching off the bed and digging his feet into the mattress, whining when Edward's mouth reaches his navel. His lips suckle on odd spots all over Louis' tummy, leaving glistening patches and the faintest bruises where he used his teeth.

Louis bites his lip when Edward's tongue acts upon a point on his hip that's weak and makes him shudder uncontrollably. He has his free hand grasping the silky locks of chocolate brown curls, and can't find a damn reason to be stopping this wonderful experience.

Edward loses his mind and all the sanity it once contained when Louis let's him cup the round firmness of his behind. Through his pants it was still the best thing Edward's ever done and he closes his eyes, panting raggedly into the boy's front as he kneads the perfect posterior of this boy.

The greatest feeling in the world, the one that utterly ruins the side of Edward that made him an undefeated man, was the one made by Louis. It was the realisation that Louis _trusted_ Edward so much that he would let his hands roam the man's body and allow the same treatment for himself. Breathtaking and fiery in Edward's heart, the blossoming reality left them both crippled with co-dependence.

"I want to take this as far as it can go." Edward grumbles more irritated at himself than anything Louis' ever done. "I can't though."

Louis starts to control his ragged breathing and lays back amongst the ruffled sheets, the hair on his head forming a chestnut halo fanned out on his pillow. His hand scratches harmlessly at the center of his tummy and he smiles forgivingly up at Edward.

He gingerly extends his arms and locks them around Edward's neck, lowering the other male back into his close proximity. Edward obliges and his eyes map out Louis' precisely curved and arched features down from his temples to his cherry lips. 

"Look at you. Oh how radiant you are, princess." Edward brought himself closer and nuzzled Louis' neck roughly. He made to move an arm around Louis but faltered and lost his balance. 

"You're hurting yourself." Louis sounded just as out of breath as he, rolling the man over so he was on his back. 

Edward didn't want to go alone and drew Louis onto his chest when he was ordered to be still. He stuffed a pillow under his head and let his injured arm lay across Louis' back. "Do me a favour, sweetlips."

"Okay." Louis pulled himself up and rested his cheek over Edward's heart, bare skin contact and his leg locked between both of Edward's. 

"Look in that drawer." Edward jutted his chin in the direction of his oak nightstand. 

Louis follows his line of vision back to the surface of the desk where the weapon lay with a mug of cold coffee. He shakes his head and hides his face. "I don't want to."

"Sweetlips." Edward rubbed continuous lines over Louis' back from shoulder to dangerously close to his bum. "It's not loaded, baby. It can't do anything."

"Fine." Louis sat up to have better leverage and reached over to the nightstand, biting his lip hard enough to induce bleeding. 

He pulls open the first drawer and sees that the only thing in there is a black velvet bag pulled shut with a golden string. Louis takes it out and shuts the drawer, returning to Edward's eye-line with the valuable.

"This?" He nervously pinches the smooth fabric, feeling something rectangular and rustling inside.

"Remember when I said I had something for you?" Edward drums his fingers on Louis' hip, letting the boy get comfortable with his perch on his waist. 

Louis nods carefully and turns over the object in his hands. "Yeah?"

Edward takes it from him with a notorious smirk curling his lip and deepening his dimple. Out from within the velvet bag with gold trimming and a rope to add to its authentic old English feel, comes a staunch black leather case. Louis rounds his lips in curiosity upon the sight, excited but doubtful.

"This is for you, sweetlips." Edward hands him the leather case so that the little golden latch at the front faces him.

Gracefully accepting the offering from Edward, Louis swallows nervously before unhooking the latch and pinching the sides of the case to open it. He peeks at it before he's got it fully open and gasps, both thrilled and anxious. He snaps it closed again.

"What's wrong with it?" Edward quirks an eyebrow and teases Louis' wildly pink cheeks, his embarrassment reaching his crinkly doe eyes. 

"Nothing." Louis shies away from Edward's lips on his cheek, squealing with laughter when he's attacked by tickles.

"Open it then." Edward presses, nibbling suspiciously on Louis' neck to encourage him. "I want to see it on you, princess."

Louis takes a deep breath and reopens the case again, letting it lie back on its hinges this time. He looks down at the silk cloth that's tucked into the sides, folded and crossed over a cushion upon which the main attraction rests. An adornment for Louis' head, a silver crown that's embedded with sapphire jewels. The gems range from small to one large centrepiece, surrounded by the intricate weaving of sterling steel. 

The case falls to the bed while Louis holds the item of jewellery in both his hands. It's light as a feather and cool to the touch. He reads the engraving on the inner portion that dictates it came from a reputable brand. He marvels at how simple it is and full of life, sparkling from light bouncing off it.

"Is this...for me?" Louis has never owned something so valuable and how could he now?

"Yes, baby." Edward clears his throat and takes the tiara from Louis to slide it onto his head, framing his feathery fringe and twinkling just like his eyes are. "Now you're a princess and everyone else can see."

Louis beams under the praise for his recent accessory. He feels it on his head, barely showing taller than his unruly hair. It's cool and tucked in behind his ears. Edward kisses his forehead and feels the heat in Louis' cheeks when he pecks both.

"You like it, sweetlips?" Edward asks it of his boyfriend, capturing Louis' waist and tackling him to the bed.

"I love it." Louis wraps himself around Edward, arms and legs, and their chests effectively colliding on each intake of air. "Thank you, Daddy."

Edward let's his injured arm be the one that works as Louis' pillow. "I'm glad you'll enjoy it."

Louis hummed happily to himself and curled his fists against Edward's chest, the man ensuring that he's properly insulated with the comforter and his body. They lie together after Edward switches off the lamp and shoots a text to Harry informing him that Louis won't be going to school today.

"I promised Harry I'd go somewhere with him after school." Louis whispers lowly under the crook of Edward's neck. 

"He can pick you up after school then." Edward gruffly compensates and inhales the light, sleepy scent that's just _Louis_. 

"Wait." Louis suddenly breaks apart from Edward to carefully remove the tiara from his head to place back in its rightful case. 

Edward waits for him and chuckles when Louis cuddles up to him like he's not a dangerous man on the streets. The pain in his arm is forgotten and his the buzz from his painkillers is forgotten because Louis is nuzzling the tattoo on his neck before laying a little peck there.

"How did you sleep last night?" Edward combs his fingers through Louis' hair, using small strokes that didn't stress his injured arm and kept his eyes closed. 

"I slept well." Louis sniffles when the air-conditioner sends subtle gusts of cool air on his back. "Harry's bed is comfy."

"I agree." Edward chuckles. "He slept on a air mattress for eight weeks, waiting for it to be imported from Egypt."

Louis licks his lips and drags the covers up to his shoulder, completely concealing himself from the world. "Really? That must have been an expensive bed."

Edward takes the liberty of tucking Louis in at the corners. "I hate to admit it but Marcel still has the best of us all."

"He does?" Louis' leg is hooked over Edward's hip. "How long did he wait for his to come?"

"Two hours. It's a water bed." Edward rubs Louis' ankle over the cover that envelopes it, massaging the heel of Louis' foot to entertain his idle hands. 

"Oh." Louis makes a curious noise. "I've never slept on one of those."

"I wish I could promise you a night in one then but Marcel is the most protective of his personal space." Edward pulls on Louis' big toe and triggers a squirm from his victim. 

"Edward?" Louis yawns but he doesn't feel tired and it's the most confusing thing he's ever experienced. "How did you get shot?"

The question is so blunt that Edward can't be blamed for laughing the way he does before answering. "I stood too close to a person that hated me."

Louis winces from the visual he gets, a blast to Edward's shoulder by a bullet from an enemy. "Why wouldn't they like you?"

"Believe it or not, sweetlips, there are people that love you and those that hate you. Both can kill you."

"What do you that you have people to both love and hate you?" Louis presses unintentionally.

"I-" Edward stops himself. It's too soon for Louis to know, far too much of a risk. "I hardly do anything and I think that's the reason. Why don't we get some sleep now, princess?"

"I just woke up though." Louis argues, liberating dry skin from his lips. 

"I'm not allowing you to leave this room, sweetlips." Edward mumbles into Louis' neck. 

"Tell you what." Edward clears his throat. "If you manage to stay in bed with me for three more hours, you can accompany Marcel and I to our gym session."

Louis' always been curious about gyms. They look so idealistic and promising on the outside. He never had to cash to pay for a membership and sometimes slipped in on their open days for quick exploration. 

"Okay, Daddy." Louis feels motivated and determined about succeeding in Edward's trial. "See you in three hours."

  
* * * * *  


Edward's never seen someone in all his years more excited than Louis twenty minutes before they leave for the gym. Marcel is yet to return from school so Louis is antsy and sitting on the staircase in the foyer, picking apart a hollow chocolate egg. They may have planned three hours to be their waiting period but it's already nearing three in the afternoon.

"Princess." Edward has been trying to use his arm but the unpleasant sting that reverberated through his body when he reached too far was pure anguish.

Louis tries to be neat but that's never really been a strong suit of his. "Yes?"

"How would you feel about going to the gym with just my brother?" He asks the boy from the doorway to the kitchen. 

"Okay." Louis shrugs nonchalantly and wakes up, walking towards Edward and kissing the man's cheek. "You should be resting."

Edward scoffs in disbelief and watches Louis wash his hands, confident little steps between destinations. He's so proud of Louis for growing into this beautiful flower with the brightest colours. Louis does not hesitate to laugh or giggle, to shriek when Edward throws him over a shoulder to carry down the stairs. 

"I don't need rest." Edward follows Louis to the living room where his bag sat on the couch. Louis had packed it under Edward's supervision. 

His boyfriend wasn't believing him and it was obvious by the way he rolled his eyes. "Rest for me anyway, Daddy."

"Princess!" Edward was outraged yet amused by Louis' silent torture. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not." Louis got up on his tiptoes because it was the only way he could reach Edward's lips so he can kiss them. 

His own lips taste like chocolate and Edward takes advantage of that. He dips the boy so Louis has nowhere to go and licks into mouth. It's a little harsh by the way bites on Louis' lip and growls into the boy's neck. 

"You're carniverous." Louis comments when Edward nips at his Adam's Apple and doesn't let him up until Louis' giggling loudly into their kiss. 

"I am when it comes to you." Edward rights their positions and hears a car roll up into the driveway. "Marcel's here."

Just on cue, Edward hears the frontdoor opening and slamming shut. It isn't a reflex of rage because Marcel's always hated how heavy that object was. Footsteps get louder and heavier as the youngest triplet makes his way into the living space. He's wearing a plain white dress shirt over black skinny jeans that easily depict every muscle he's ever had. 

Marcel smiles at Louis who has somehow gotten cross-legged on the couch. "Hey, babydoll."

"Hi." Louis hunts for his shoes on the floor without actually moving. He came downstairs with them but seems to have forgotten where he kicked them off. 

"Ready to go?" Marcel is asking Edward this, his older brother that's brooding by the open window. 

"You'll just be taking Louis today." Edward scratches the skin that's itchy and bothersome around the bandage on his shoulder. 

"Yeah?" Marcel sips from a water bottle he swiped out of the refrigerator, smirking when Louis avoids his gaze. "That'll be exciting, won't it?"

Marcel holds his hand out towards Louis and the boy jumps to his feet, now covered in his favourite Vans. He felt Marcel's fingers slip into the gaps between his and curl around the back of his hand. Louis looks up when Marcel takes out his phone and pouts when he sees Edward glaring daggers at their connection.

"Alright." Marcel tucks his phone away and snatches the bag off the couch. "We're leaving now."

Louis is being dragged out of the room but he finds time to turn around and meekly wave at his unhappy boyfriend with a smoulder able of killing. He follows Marcel to the foyer and back out the door, being kept on his toes because the taller male takes much larger strides.

Marcel's low-riding Aston Martin is parked just at the bottom of the stairs and Louis jogs skilfully down the steps with his hand connected with his companion's. The bag is dumped in the insufficiently sized boot and Louis eagerly opens the door for himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Marcel quickly makes his way over to Louis and stops him from getting in.

"Um-"

"You know very well that all dealings with this door-" Marcel kicks the pebbles at his feet jovially, flashing a grin wider than anything he's displayed today. "-is _my_ responsibility."

"Sorry." Louis stops his hair from flying wildly into his eyes, due to the strong winds. "You can do it next time."

Marcel laughs and just pushes the door closed in time after Louis climbs in, taking a stroll around to his own seat. The eyes watching him, burning holes in his back, were undeniably the reason for his amusement as he waved at Edward's shadow amongst the curtains. While they were driving out Harry passed them on his way into the property and Marcel knocked his palm hard enough into the middle of the steering wheel for a strong hoot. 

"Did you want to go to gym or did you need convincing?" Marcel asks Louis once the iron gates close behind them and they're driving down the neighborhood street.

"I've always loved the gym." Louis cheerily replies, knotting and releasing his fingers. "Never got to go though."

"Really?" Marcel chuckles and turns into the street where the gym is established. 

Louis looks at the nearing building in awe. The whole front display is constructed with crystal glass, grey-painted walls on three other sides. A few cars are already parked in the members section, others scattered in the visitors section.

"Aha." He watches Marcel hand over a silver card to the guard and be accepted into the members' sheltered lot. "How often do you come here?"

"Every second day." Marcel answers and parks smoothly under the tent, killing the engine by extracting the key. 

They hop off and Louis is allowed to carry his own bag because Marcel won't allow the boy to carry a heavier burden. He walks behind Louis as they ascend the narrow steps, checking to see that he has all his belongings. 

The first activity Louis wants to do is what he considers fairly basic. In black sweatpants and a fitting T-shirt without print, Louis went to treadmills while Marcel did weights. They were a distance apart for thirty minutes before Louis wandered into the section with glistening steel masses and bulging muscle. 

He found Marcel away from any mirrors and lying on his back as part of the bed structure of this exercise machine. Hardly sweating from a laidback work-out, Louis made himself visible to the man with a little smile.

"Done already, babydoll?" Marcel pushes the metal bar with two iron weight back into its support hooks and sits up.

Louis tries very hard to be modest and not ogle the shirtlessness and glory of mildly sweaty, shimmering porcelain skin. Marcel was perfect without similarities from two other brothers. 

Trying to be discreet and respectful, Louis hands Marcel his water bottle with minimal blushing - he's quite proud. "I got bored."

"How?" Marcel had to ask. It seemed illogical for someone to get bored while they're busy. 

He gets a weak shrug in response to his enquiry. "Busy hands and an empty mind, I suppose."

"Then we must fix that." Marcel looks around him for a solution. "Try something new."

"Nah uh." Louis immediately rejected the idea before its justification. "People get hurt trying new things."

"Not when they've got me to help them." Marcel winks and takes Louis' hand before the boy can argue with him.

Louis gets hurt ten minutes into the new routine. It isn't his fault that he's born as clumsy as he is. 

Marcel was trying to encourage him to do the same weightlifting as him with different - smaller - weights. When Louis turned out to be pretty decent, he allowed the boy a go at one of his which promptly slipped from both Louis' little hands and collided with his foot. A deafening crack and a screech on behalf of the beholder occurs before Marcel gets him in-house medical attention.

"It's going to be fine." The kind paramedic that works for the gym informs them after she completes her assessment. "He's broken his toe from the drop but nothing major was fractured."

Nervous and panicky as Marcel is, it only makes things worse when she starts to wrap a bandage around the majorly swollen and bruised appendage. "How long will it take to heal?"

"Four to six weeks." She answers when Marcel wants the fact of maybe a day or two. "Apply ice and keep your leg elevated every chance you get."

"Alright. Thank you so much." Marcel sees her off and returns to see Louis looking worriedly at his recent injury. "Does it hurt, babydoll?"

"Nope." Louis pops the 'p' and smiles with a little twinkle in his eye. "You can go back to your work-out. I'll be right here."

"Or-" Marcel drags out the word while he finds reason to sit with Louis on a chair. "-I could sit with you."

"You can't." Louis protests and nudges Marcel's shoulder with his cheek. "There's still an hour left."

Marcel chuckles and ropes Louis in under his arm, cuddling the boy up to his side with a kiss on his forehead. "We can go for waffles and milkshakes."

"That's counterproductive." Louis giggles and closes his eyes for a brief minute. "We can go for waffles after you finish your routine."

"Alright then." Marcel stands up and picks up their shared water bottle, handing it to Louis before bending to hoist the boy into his arms. 

Louis gasps and stifles his scream from suddenly being air-lifted, cradled by two reassuring strong arms. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying my babydoll." Marcel plants a tasteful kiss on Louis' cheek to feel the sweet heat that rises to that flushed skin. "You're coming with me to the ring."

"What ring?" Louis asks, sipping from the large nozzle of the water bottle and trying discern directions from nearby guidelines. 

Marcel tells him what button to press on the elevator panel, tightening his arms so Louis doesn't get close to falling. "Boxing ring."

They go down two levels and then further below to a basement floor. Marcel carries Louis out to where there's quite a bit of noise from other participants being present. Louis looks around him curiously at the giant risen boxing ring that's the focal point of the room, tables lined up along the left wall. It's dark down here and Louis has to squint even with his glasses on.

A couple men are standing in an informal group not too far away and Marcel whistles with a bitten lip to them but doesn't venture near them. Louis feels terribly anxious about meeting new people in a foreign place. 

"Marcel?!" The bald, burly personal trainer starts walking towards them. "I thought you weren't coming today."

Marcel sets Louis down on one of the tables, standing between his legs with hands braced on either side of the boy. Louis wiggles forward on the surface of it so he can sufficiently hide under Marcel's chin. He feels safer there than being exposed to a tall, scary body-builder.

"So did I but-" The man shrugs and sets Louis' shoes down on the table next to him. "-I've got an hour and this one won't let me leave."

The unnamed personal trainer crosses his arms and the veins in those bulging biceps strain against the upper layer of his skin. "And who is this one, Marcel?"

"Billy, this is Louis." Marcel gets his hiding companion to politely smile and mumble a greeting. "He wanted to join me today."

"Nice of him." Billy compliments him. "What happened to your foot, Louis?"

"He dropped something." Marcel's arms stiffen on Louis' sides and he doesn't bother breaking away. "I'll be right there, Billy."

When they're alone again from Billy rejoining the group of individuals in a far spot of the room. Louis can look over Marcel's shoulder and see a guy with a wind-swept fringe that's dirty blond in colour. Another man looks to have a gold tooth that shimmers whenever light from the bright bulbs strike it.

"Sit right here, babydoll." Marcel kisses Louis' cheek and gets him comfortable against the wall, his leg with an injury is extended while he folds the other under it. "You have the best seat in the house, you know."

Louis looks around for a moment and back to the intimidating boxing ring, of monstrous height and build. "Are you going to be up there?"

"Yes." Marcel pours water into his mouth and caps the bottle. "Come find me if you need anything, love."

Louis doesn't end up bothering Marcel for the entire hour. He sits perfectly occupied on the table with Marcel's phone and researches random topics as well as things he'll have to do for his Chemistry assignment. For fifty minutes he isn't worried by the shouts, cheered encouragements or instructions. Occasionally, Louis will look up and watch Marcel or someone do the same thing as him. 

"Hello." A voice breaks that record of his. 

Tentatively, Louis raises his head and sees the dirty blond from earlier standing across from him. He's strapping something onto his wrists and smiling kindly at Louis but the latter is more concerned about how tall he is. The triplets don't look this tall but they probably are, this man's stranger status influences Louis' impression of him.

"You're here with Marcel?" The surfer-like male asks him. He has big brown eyes and a faint stubble over his endless jawline. "He doesn't usually bring friends along."

"U-Um...-" Louis can't help his lack of something to respond with. He realises that he's got a deathgrip on Marcel's gigantic iPhone and eases his tension like that. 

"I'm Francis." The stranger held out his hand, eyes full of mirth. "You have pretty eyes, Louis. Never seem 'em so blue before."

The compliment was very thoughtful, suave even, but it didn't make Louis blush any more than he was panicking. He wanted Marcel to be here. 

" _Um-_ "

"Fuck off, Francis." The explicit wording came from Louis' hero approaching their station, licking his lips and tying his sweaty hair back. "Leave what's mine alone."

Francis backs away from the table with his hands raised in surrender and he chortles with self-satisfaction. Louis can breathe easy with the stranger being not so close to him. He can easily read that Marcel plays off the genuine, dire seething nature with amusement. It fails as a mask over his marble features, arched and perfected. Louis can see through it, both admiring and fearing the ferocity of such animalistic traits.

Marcel doesn't move more than leaning forward to drink from his bottle until Francis makes himself scarce. Louis didn't predict that the youngest triplet could be so.... _possessive_ under such plain circumstances. He was enthralled and intrigued, never having been someone that a person would want to protect.

Louis gets to wait while Marcel showers, fiddling with the man's phone. He plans to shower at the house where he'd be more comfortable with handling a fresh injury.


	14. FOURTEEN.

**_[A/N: Many of you tell me about how you recommend my stories to friends and I just need to say that each time hearing it feels like a blessing. Thank you so much for that commitment and support. - S xx]_ **

"What the _fuck_?!" Harry shouts, pushing himself off the couch and storming up to the new arrivals.

Marcel took Louis for waffles and milkshakes, both of which they brought home to eat over homework. They came into the living room with Louis trying not to limp and the second they entered, Harry noticed his foot. Louis gasped when he was caught around his waist and steadied by the other Styles.

"What happened to your foot, kitten?" Harry asks urgently, checking for other injuries on this sweet boy. 

"Nothing." Louis lies with a faint blush colouring his cheeks, warm under Harry's calloused fingertips. 

"Yeah? Are you lying, kitten?" Harry glowers at his younger sibling with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. How dare he let Louis get close to hurting himself? 

Louis had no problem with being hugged when Harry did, settling into the man's embrace at once. Marcel had not dodged the situation entirely and regained Louis' weight against _himself_ but discouraging Harry. He's given up enough time to his selfish brothers to resign now as well.

"For fuck's sake, he's fine!" Marcel snaps at Harry, feeling too thinly spread and full of steam that's fogging his morale. 

Two pairs of eyes, both startled, land on him. Louis is pinned helplessly to Marcel's side, his waist that's being dug into by something less gentle starting to ache. He feels the hold on him tighten to a titanium cage and distracts himself from a whimper.

Harry's features relax once more and his judgement is evident by the way he quirks an eyebrow at his angered brother. "Edward's not home but when he-"

"When he comes home-" Marcel interrupts Harry for nearly the first time _in his life_. Louis is the only one who doesn't see the significance of such arrogance yet. "-he can ask me whatever the Hell he wants. For now, that's not my concern."

"No." Harry agrees, eyes stormy and swirling into black from portals of liquid emerald. "Your main concern now is that Louis is fuckin' limping instead of walking."

"It's a damn broken _toe_ , Harry." Marcel grits, something about him inflating to appear more hostile. 

"That's not the point and you fucking know it, you cunt." Harry steps in Marcel's personal space and his frustration had to be coming off him in waves, ones that bounced off the walls and made the room unbearable altogether. "What the fuck were you doing that you let him get hurt?"

Marcel opens his mouth with a fiery response but one slamming door has him shutting up. The echo came from upstairs. He suddenly gets sucked back down into the the real world, and is disheartened by realising that the perfectly loveable presence under his arm is no longer there. The room is void of any sign pertaining to Louis and both brothers aren't happy about it.

"Now look what you did." Marel mutters aggravatedly, already on his way to the staircase. 

"Stop being a bloody child!" Harry shouts after him, well into the process of leaping up the stairs to keep pace.

They come to the coridor of bedrooms and hardly have to think twice about which room Louis went into. Marcel sighs and makes his way to Edward's door, knocking on it in three solid raps.

"You in there, babydoll?" He tries with a dry raspiness to his voice. It's almost a croak.

Harry wants to be pissed off to the highest degree at Marcel's infant behaviour, wants to shove him off and rant about how much of an ass he was to let this happen. Before all that rage was the realisation that they're brothers and share an equal part in the argument that scared Louis away.

"Lou?" He clears his throat and drops his forehead onto the cold door. "Kitten, are you alright?"

They can't hear anything coming from the other side of the door and Marcel only gives up standing for sliding to the floor. His back hits the door and Harry winces from the crack of his knuckles, the distasteful noises doing wonders for emphasising the pain in his own back.

"What are you doing?" He asks his younger sibling with slightly bruised knuckles and a perceivable bust lip. 

"What does it look like?" Marcel replies unkindly but his tone is tired, worn out. 

Harry joins him on the ground, allowing his legs to be bent in the air and spread at the knees. The stretch undoes some healing in his back and he could really use another massage after this awkward position. Nevertheless, Harry let's a few seconds of silence pass between them.

"You didn't take me seriously, did you?" Marcel says first, turning his head to look at Harry.

His brother glances at him through the corner of his eye, a smirk curling his lips. "You're such a softie, Marcel."

"Not all the time." Marcel sadly reminisces all the times his anger gets the better of him and he erupts on whoever may be near him.

Temper tantrums ran in their family. Sporadic outbursts of flaming infuriation that unnerved and frightenened everryone around them. Now it felt like swallowing those hot, bitter flames because it's _Louis_ that they've scared.

Evidence to their sudden outbursts came to be over the years, from flustered rage over litter around the house to simply not having something done when it should be. They all expected Edward to be the worst of the triplets, but instead it was Marcel. Their psychologist at the time hadn't diagnosed him as clinically bipolar as those episodes sizzled out over time but the occurence was still phenomenal.

"All the time." Harry echoes with a shake of his head, punching Marcel's knee gently. 

His younger sibling let's his head hit the door, a long groan leaving his parted lips. "We're so fucked when Edward gets back."

"Nah." Marcel sniffs and looks at his partner in crime, chuckling to themselves like adolescents. "He's not my concern this time."

"Yeah." Harry agrees with him by closing his own eyes and sighing. He taps his knuckles against the wooden barrier supporting them both. "Kitten?"

There's shuffling so soft that they both eventually put it down to insanity. On the other side of the door however, Louis has silently shifted himself to it and sat down on the carpet. His side was pressed against the door, fitted in the space between the two brothers without any of them knowing.

"I think he just wants some privacy." Harry resolves, dusting off his spotless jeans. "We should leave him alone for a while."

"I can't do that." Marcel had more of a guilty conscience in this situation than Harry did, because he was the core reason for upsetting Louis. 

Harry gets to his feet and straightens his shirt, flipping back the hair that strays into his vision. "What if Edward gets home? You know the rules."

No one goes into Edward's room because somehow he always knew if someone had, relative or not. Also, nobody gets to share a bed with Louis unless he allows it. It's just the way they've functioned as three majorly different personalities stuffed into three suits of identical brothers.

"He'll make me fix it." Marcel points out truthfully. Edward was very strict when it came to making sure nothing was bothering their Louis. 

"Fine." Harry knocks on the door again and lowers his voice, unaware that Louis can hear all of what he says after that. "Don't let my narcissistic brother sit out here all night, kitten."

"Fuck you." Marcel is laughing as he shoves Harry so that he nearly stumbles. "I'm not narcissistic."

Harry rolls his eyes and continues, sobering for his conclusion as he _felt_ like Louis was actually lending an ear. "If I don't see you until morning, kitten, have sweet dreams and you have my kiss."

When Harry's gone with swift steps under his footing so he can disappear into his room down the hall, Marcel takes another chance. He gets up and knocks on Edward's door thrice, letting his weight fall against it when no reply comes.

"Are you going to ignore me for the rest of our lives, babydoll?" He asks jovially, a soft chuckle elicited when he hears some movement on the other side.

Louis' voice is humbling and sweet when he answers, hand flattened on the door. "J-Just the rest of mine, maybe."

Marcel laughs at this boy's ability to go from fearful to sassy and full of energy. He raps on the division between them with his fingertips. "We have some homework to get done, doll. Why don't we start on that early?"

"Okay." Louis agrees quietly and Marcel steps back to let the door crack open, revealing a sliver of the most pleasureful sight any man could ever see.

In his attire from earlier, looking very comfortable yet often wincing from the sharp stings resonating from his foot, Louis steps out of the room. He has a bit of a hardened plaster wrapped around his injured toe to keep it from meddling with the others or the ground. 

Looking up from the floor to Marcel's face, Louis has a pinkness dusting his cheeks and the tiniest of smiles being suppressed by his modesty. Marcel takes his hand to lure the boy out of Edward's room and onto his arm, resting Louis' hand on his forearm.

"I'm sorry." Marcel apologetically presses his kindest kiss on Louis' forehead by means of redemption. "I'm sorry for frightening you, babydoll."

Louis forgives him. He shakes his head and accepts the parade of small pecks awarded to his face and neck. Giggling because of the abrupt attack, he has his hands on Marcel's chest to fend him off. The act is futile for Marcel merely holds onto his hands, keeping them firmly planted on his chest.

"What?" The man muses, full of mischief while he continues his attack. "Have you got a problem with my apology?"

Louis tastes like a warm summer evening and the cosiest winter night all bundled up into a single soul. He's hiding from the affection but Marcel can easily deduce that it flatters him so, makes him blush and full of glee. The boy gives in just when Marcel delivers his last blow: the touch of one kiss on his cheekbone.

"Here." Marcel finds the spot just below and _the tiniest mark_ behind Louis' ear, letting his lips brush over the skin. "Here is my favourite spot to taste."

Smaller, cautious hands find purchase on Marcel's shoulders. Louis arches his neck to allow him more access, the sensation of warm breath fanning over his already tingly goosebumps starting to become an addiction.

"Are you sure you aren't a vampire?" He whispers teasingly, gasping when Marcel nuzzles that favourite spot of his. "I-I can see why people doubt you."

"Hmm." The man hums, stepping forward so Louis has to back up. His arm reaches out and blocks one side of Louis' cage. "Others aren't my concern now or ever."

Louis meets Marcel's eye when the latter can finally pry himself away from the feeling of bare skin. He gingerly slides his arms across the arch of Marcel's shoulders so they can lock around the man's neck. A smile makes his eyes crinkle when Marcel turns his head in two directions to kiss both Louis' arms.

"Since you are suffering through a severe injury-" Marcel's confidence that has grown listlessly since his taste of fury, leads him to raising his hands to ask permission. "-I must do you the honour of offering to carry you."

Louis nods but once and that's enough allowance for Marcel to get his way. He is man enough to admit that as much as he's not copping a feel, Louis is a _dream_ to have so well embraced in his arms. His hands wrap around Louis' thighs at the back, lifting them up off the floor so they can cradle his hips.

All about Louis is soft and warm and desirable. He holds onto Marcel and it's the most needed the man has ever felt. A narrower chest meets his own and leans on him, relying on him. Marcel stays a bit longer to sway in his footing and brush his thumbs over Louis' legs at two small spots. He looks at the most magnificent shade of blue to ever grace the Earth and smiles when it reminds him of all the good this world has.

"I guess this makes you my damsel." Marcel conducts a frightening eyebrow wiggle that has Louis throwing his head back in laughter.

"I'm not a damsel, my liege." Louis rights the glasses perched on his nose. 

"No, you're right." Marcel doesn't even reprimand Louis for removing his glasses, leaving with blurry eyesight about everything except the bluest eyes. "You can't be my damsel and my babydoll. It's proposterous."

Just because he's been told that it was impossible, Louis kind of wants it to be true now. He squeaks when Marcel starts walking and hurries to slip the man's glasses back on, lest they meet in an accident. 

"I can't?" He asks delicately, hopeful and a little deflated. 

The corner of Marcel's mouth quirks, his lips curling into an infamous Styles smirk. "I thought you didn't want to be."

"I don't." Louis rushes to quickly answer, looking down instead of those piercing green orbs that are studying him so intently. 

Some silence passes between them and Marcel is intuitive enough to know when Louis is biting his lip for a whole other reason. He says nothing about it though, more endeared by Louis' simplicity. At his bedroom door, Marcel let's them in and the first thing Louis notices is the pleasant smell. 

It's difficult to discern exactly what the scent is because each time he chose one, it changed to something else. He was put down and his feet touched soft carpet that ran to all corners of the gigantic room. It had a closet that's partially open to his left with mirror glass doors and a promising bed that's untidily draped in silk sheets.

His desk is the only neat thing about the room, piles of paperwork and books stacked against each other on the floor to keep the desk's surface clutter-free. Louis flinches at a pinch in his foot that hurts to an astounding degree, before hugging his middle with both arms. He doesn't like taking up that much room in any space.

"Do you like it?" Marcel asks, spooking Louis by whispering in his ear. 

Louis fishmouths for two heartbeats. "I-I- It's your room, Marcel."

The man grins, dimples and bright green eyes. "It sure is."

Louis decides that the youngest triplet makes no sense and giggles when his hand is taken, his legs made to work. He discovers his bag and books already here next to an unsteady tower of D. H. Lawrence novels. Marcel's room had a giant window expanding from wall to wall, floor to ceiling behind his bed. It was terrifying to be able to see the yard and street by merely lifting your head off the pillow.

"Still." Marcel clears his throat and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. "Do you like it?"

Louis can feel the burning gaze of Marcel working its way through him, as he picks up one of the many old textbooks on the table. "It's cosy. I like it."

"Good." Marcel seems relieved for some unspoken reason. He even drops his arm and pats his pockets as if looking for something. "So uh- What would you like to do?"

"I don't know." Louis puts the heavy book back onto its rightful stack and crosses his arms. "We could finish our work for tomorrow?"

"That sounds- Yeah, let's do that."

In spite of their initial awkward demeanour and behaviour towards one another, the pairing easily settles into a quiet mood of work. Marcel sits on the floor with his back against the foot of his bed, books scattered all around him after just half an hour. One word descriped Louis on Marcel's leather chair and it was draped. His legs were bent over one armrest and his back leaned against the other. 

When the silence became too much for him, Marcel had to speak up. He'd often let his eyes wander to the boy in his seat, feeling like a creepy monster for the way he stares. Louis _confused_ him is the thing, Schrödinger and Heisenberg didn't but this boy did.

He tapped his pen on the edge of his book, chewing his lip nervously as he memorised the contours of Louis' body. His little scrunched up button nose whenever he had to sneeze but didn't want to. The twitch of his fingers at any given time. The racing movement of his pink lips when a sentence needed re-reading. His notably smaller feet hanging jobless over the chair's edge.

Marcel felt like a paraphrased Heisenberg particle. He knew what he was and what he was going to do but he couldn't know both simultaneously. 

"Hey, babydoll?" He gulps like the petname sounds foreign to him although he will remain forever proud at the fact that he reserved one so sweet.

Louis' electric blue eyes shifted from the book to Marcel, hardly masked behind transparent glasses. He was biting his lip and stopped to listen. "Yes?"

 _Christ_. Marcel overestimated his confidence again. "Are you done working?"

"Yeah." Louis pulled himself up and his one leg disappeared under his weight, the other still aiding his bandaged toe. "Are you finished working?"

"Yeah." Marcel curses himself relentlessly, but one slips out accidentally. " _Shit_ \- Sorry, Louis."

Louis is giggling at him with rather expressive eyes focused on him. "It sounds unlike you to swear."

A guilty pang sliced its way through Marcel's chest. He's sworn enough times in front of Louis and his brothers. "I have some uh- tests to grade. Would you like to help me?"

"Tests?" Louis does that scrunch-y thing with his nose and Marcel forgets how to breathe. "But you're not a teacher."

"Primary school level." Marcel jumps to his feet and rifles through his satchel on the ground, handing Louis a stack of papers once he finds them. "The teacher asked for a favour."

"Really?" Louis can't help but smile at the uncoordinated, haphazard writing of toddlers. "That's so sweet of you."

Marcel wishes he didn't smile a little shyly after that or try to hide it with such a fake cough as his. He hastily goes for distraction and pulls up a stool from under the table, seating himself right beside Louis. There are four classes and one memorandum to follow. 

"How do you want to do this?" Marcel shamelessly asks, meeting Louis' gaze momentarily. 

Louis ponders over it. "You can have two classes and I'll have two."

"Okay. Yeah, that makes sense." 

As it turns out, Louis enjoys marking scripts and Marcel _loves_ watching him do it. His eyes lit up like Christmas whenever the answer was too correct or amusing, a tiny pout forming on his lips when the child lost marks. Marcel wanted to see this reflection of elaborate emotions on such an exquisite visage every day.

"How-" Marcel notices that Louis' already finished one class when he's still twiddling his thumbs over the second script. "When you're with my brothers...- How do you um- _sit_ , I guess?"

Louis frowns in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Oh." Marcel sighs a little dejectedly though he has no right. "Nevermind then."

"No, no." Louis presses, insisting as he drops his red pen and turning a little in his seat. "Tell me."

Marcel feels like a fool, a masochistic fool. "How do you..... _sit_ with my brothers?"

"Oh." Louis is intelligent enough to piece together the question's implied meaning and blushes a light pink in response. He doesn't see it as a strange question either, or one that should not be answered. "With Harry I sit on his lap and with Edward.....I haven't sat like this with him yet."

"Hmph." Marcel chewed his lip vigorously in thought. He wasn't happy with the arrangement whereby he didn't have an equal shot at Louis on his lap or something more.

Louis was blissfully oblivious. He didn't take the matter to be as serious as it was in Marcel's mind, and thusly returned to marking papers. Marcel watched him ponderously for a short time, making assumptions and hoping. What had his brothers done that got them further along in Louis' regard than he?

He stopped abruptly when a soft grumble came from Louis' tummy, unhappy with having not eaten. 

"Are you hungry, babydoll?" He asked with a little teasing chuckle, resting his elbow on the back of Louis' chair. 

"Not a lot." Louis leaned back and unkowingly put his head against Marcel's forearm. 

Marcel shook his head as he stood up to grab his phone off the bed and dial a number. "How about I order pizza and we camp in here tonight?" 

"Camp?" Louis almost tilts his head in a slight inclination to the right and Marcel loses every ounce of self maintenance. "Can we build a fort?"

Marcel was ready to buy Louis a castle made from ancient stone two hours ago. He nods and holds the phone up to his ear, observing in a way that's - he isn't ashamed to admit it - _stalkerish_ while the nearest pizzaria answers him. 

"We can get anything you want, babydoll." He can't say further because someone answers his call on the other end.

He places an order for two large pizzas that come with potato wedges and quiches. There's going to be a lot of food and not enough mouths to feed it to be Marcel has to make sure Louis has all he can eat. Marcel doesn't sit again and glances at the time, seeing that it's now long past sunset outside. The front door downstairs opens and closes, the heavy thunk of keys signalling that the final component of the Styles trio is home.

"Edward's home." He says with a little sadness but a whole lot more nonchalance. "Would you like to go to him while I prepare your fort?"

Louis lit up in a way that shouldn't be good for Marcel's health and the latter found himself feeling less spiteful, more blessed to just witness this brightness. He watched Louis _barely_ neaten his work station before leaping out of his seat. Graceful even when clumsy, Marcel isn't able to stop his fond laughter when Louis rushes out of the room, a gait in his step from the injury on his foot.

"Fuck." He mutters when he realises he just let Louis go to Edward. _Edward_ , who will tear him limb from limb because Louis is hurt. "Louis!"

Nobody hears him even when he sprints down the hall in a mad dash but forces himself to come to a stop just before the staircase. He's blocked by a wall with hideous wallpaper and witnesses Louis' interaction with his brother. His astonishingly no longer terrifying older brother.

"If you take another step, princess, I'll have to punish you for it." Edward lightly instructs from the base of the stairs, a grin of mischief on his features that's so purely unlike him. 

Louis is pouting simply because he can and holding onto a giant circular ornament that's attached to the railing of the staircase, both his dainty hands failing to wrap around it. He's leaning against it also to keep the weight off his injured leg, waiting impatiently for Edward to come to him.

"How did you manage to get hurt, love?" Edward asked him from where he was shedding his coat and kicking off his boots. 

A little bit of shame came over Louis' features. "I don't remember."

"Oh really, sweetlips?" Edward took the steps one at a time, a perpetually disarming smirk on his face. He pauses on the sixth step. "If I were to ask Marcel, will he say the same thing as you are?"

Louis shrugs weakly and avoids Edward's gaze after that. "Maybe."

Edward's smirk morphs into a chuckle as he continues his quest up the staircase. He doesn't make himself halt at any other step along the way, a constant speed about his movements. 

"Today I found myself visiting an old friend." Edward starts. "He told me I'd be lucky to find someone other than my brothers to put up with my shit. Do you know what I told him?"

Louis shakes his head just as Edward reaches the second step below him and they're at the same height, too much distance between them. Edward's motion is so fluid when he extends his arms and executes his plan to sweep Louis off his feet. He comes to the second level with a carefully cradled Louis in his arms, thighs around his waist and biceps over his shoulders.

"What did you tell him, Daddy?" Louis whispers it quietly, preventing anyone else from hearing.

Edward smiles a softer smile, one that's void of smugness or pride. The one he's conjured just for Louis. He reaches up and brushes the boy's fringe back away from his eyes first, kicking up a stride around the bend to walk down the hallway. It was in the opposite direction to Marcel's room and a few paces from Harry's.

"I told him that I already had a princess of my own." Edward winked at his boy and Louis blushed nervously, adjusting and re-adjusting the collar of Edward's shirt with shy, deft fingers. 

"That's so sweet." Louis rested his cheek on Edward's shoulder and gave him a sweet kiss on the man's chapped lips, smiling when he felt those dry fleshy pillows respond to him. "If I'm a princess then you're my prince."

Edward kicks his door shut behind him and keeps the light off, stepping through the pitch blackness of his room. He does go over to the bedside table and turns the lamp on, dimming it a little before taking on the task of elegantly dropping Louis onto his bed. The boy giggles as he bounces on the soft springs on a lovely mattress, his arms extended to try and balance himself.

Before he's able to look up and steady himself, Louis is being pressured further into the bed. Edward lands on top of him after effortlessly lowering himself onto the boy, arms stiff on either side of his head and lower body angled at the side of Louis'. 

The heady scent of Old Spice filled Louis' senses and the feel of Edward against him was overwhelming. He managed to rope his arms around the man's neck, keeping him stationary and trapped.

Edward leaned in and kissed Louis again, smirking as he heard the boy whimper so softly. Those delicate, cherry lips parted just enough for him to flick his tongue against a split seam and steal tastes of Louis. He couldn't crush the boy and was careful with how close he got, arms dropping to his elbows.

"Where did you go today?" Louis asks Edward when he's being hauled up off his back and onto Edward's lap. 

The man fell back onto his pillows, leaving Louis to sit straddling his hips. He felt so _light_ that it spoke wonders about his innocence, evidence of true angelic traits.

"I had someone to see besides my old friend." Edward smoothly dodges details in his answer, holding onto Louis' hips. "Where's that crown I got you, sweetlips?"

Louis looked over his shoulder, gentle palms flattened on Edward's torso like he didn't want the man to go through any pain because of him. His eyes snapped back to him, fiery blue on laborious green. "It's on your table."

"Go get it." Edward encourages him with a pat on his waist that has Louis already climbing off him. 

The warmth in the world disappears just for a short moment when Louis retrieves the object and limps his way back, rolling onto his side instead of getting on Edward. He fits himself against the man's side and hides in the crook of his arm, mindful of the bullet wound still on his shoulder.

"You seem tired today, princess." Edward sets the black velvet case aside to engulf Louis' smaller form with his protective arms. 

"No." Louis looks up and he's truly a sight to behold, big blue eyes and curled fists just under his chin. "Marcel and I are making a fort."

"Oh really?" Edward gives him a kiss. Has to. "We best not keep my brother waiting then, huh?"

  
* * * * *  


Marcel has the most extravagent fort Louis' ever seen set up by the time he returns after showering in Edward's room.

He was made to dress in clothes comfortable enough so that he could sleep wherever he lay and Edward gave him his blessing for spending the night without him. Louis looked around Marcel's room in awe now, wondering how it was possible.

Though the sight was humble in its making, Louis adored it. Marcel had hung over a dozen blankets, dark and thin, on light string over the bed and its sides. He somehow strapped them to the wall so the lampshades were underneath as well, now two floating yellow clouds in an all black room.

"Marcel?" He steps further into the silent room and shuts the door, twisting the fabric of Edward's shirt that he had on.

The fort shifted a little and Marcel's head popped out at an opening. "Right here, babydoll."

Louis eagerly made his way forward before stopping respectfully at the foot of the bed. Marcel was also freshly showered and shirtless, all pale skin and muscles while he held back a loose blanket so Louis could climb in. The entire bed was concealed this way and had a low-hanging blanket roof to allow them their own privacy.

Inside the fort was far more alluring than the world outside. Their ordered pizza awaited them with an assortment of candy and bottled beveraged. The pillows were arranged in a smaller circular frame where they could sit, Marcel's laptop plugged into its charger also ready for attention.

"Wow." Louis gasped, a little stupefied at all the effort that went into building a little palace for them. "It's beautiful, Marcel! I love it."

The other had the grace to look honoured and smiled kindly, warm eyes and dimples. "I'm so glad, babydoll."

The pillow arrangement down the center of the plush bed was for them, but just one person could fit horizontally. The water bed was swooshy and made Louis doubt his movements altogether, wanting to jump on it as well as install a seatbelt. He did end up safely planted between Marcel's knees, a paper plate with one pizza slice on it in his hands.

"What will we watch?" Marcel was already planning to never give the movie any attention. He had the most beautiful human seated almost on his lap, cradled so perfectly against his chest.

"Anything you want." Louis sat back against him and Marcel almost suffered a stroke from their bodies fitting together.

"Um- _The Shining_?" 

"Okay."

They were in a real tangle after eleven minutes of trying to get comfortable, but their goal was achieved. Marcel could cross his legs loosely around Louis and Louis' legs had to be hooked over the former's shins. The laptop rested on a solid perch on the bed so neither had to hold it. 

Marcel was no indebted to the feelings that came with Louis sinking further and further back into him. The boy couldn't have known he was doing it or that he was making Marcel's heart beat so fast he was risking a seizure. Louis nibbled on his pizza slice and paid all his attention to the movie, not aware of Marcel's gaze only on him. 

As Jack Nicholson did his role of a neglectful father, Louis tucked himself in on his own accord against the side of Marcel's neck. He was warm and safe here, his abandonment of the food allowing him to have two arms wound securely around his waist.

"I'm glad nobody wanted to remake this movie." Louis suddenly says, projecting his thoughts out loud.

Marcel is caught offguard and scrambles for something to say. "Oh?"

"Hmm." Louis picked up a medium-sized bag of fluffy marshmallows, toying with the seal a few times before opening it. "It should remain a classic this way."

"I agree." Marcel mumbles, face planted in Louis' neck. The boy doesn't seem to mind. "Remaking movies kills the franchise most of the time."

Louis pops a marshmallow into his mouth and offers Marcel the bag when the movie credits start to roll. He looks up when he doesn't feel Marcel taking any from him.

"For this next movie-" Marcel quickly selects another horror movie around Louis, and drags him even closer to him when he moves back. "-you can have the pleasure of feeding me, babydoll."

Eyes lit with mirth, Louis went with the plan. He sat unmoving across Marcel's lap and watched the movie at an angle. It bored him a little and he started feeding Marcel marshmallows in tiny torn off pieces, the stickiness of the sweet clinging to his fingertips.

"I can take care of that." Marcel declares at the end of the marshmallow supply.

He takes Louis' hand and first kisses his knuckles, smirking when he noticed Louis watching him with wide-eyed trepidation. Each finger he lightly suckled on to remove the sticky residue, kissing the tip of the appendage once after as well. Louis was near gaping at the end of his treatment, a wild blush on his cheeks.

"See? All better." Marcel let's Louis have his hand back, and substitutes it for the boy's midsection. 

"Thank you." Louis curled his fingers into his shirt and tried not to let his flaming cheeks be noticed.

The movie drones on but everyone in the room knows that Louis is now focusing on the palm flattened on his tummy. He traces the outline of Marcel's large, firm grip with one shaky fingertip and nuzzles the man's neck where he wants to fall asleep.

"You can't be tired already, babydoll." Marcel chuckles, nonetheless helping Louis get comfortable.

"I'm not tired." Louis says with an audible yawn. 

Marcel turns onto his side carefully and lays Louis down with his head on his best pillow, pulling one cover across him to conceal the boy. Louis would have resigned to his balled-up state if Marcel's body wasn't restricting that and he had to mould himself accordingly.

"Sleep tight, babydoll." He leans down to kiss Louis' forehead. 

Somewhere between Louis and switching off the redundent movie, Marcel hears a noise. A noise that isn't coming from inside his room but definitely disturbs the peace he's observed with Louis. He listens for it again and _there it is._

The obnoxious twist of metal and failed hushing of voices. He frowns at first in light contemplation but one massive collapse outside, the echo of heavy steel falling to the ground alarms him. Louis is shocked out of his sleep by the revving engines and no longer subdued voices, a look of terror masking his exhaustion.

"What's happening?" He asks, going to grab some part of Marcel but the latter is already sliding off the bed. 

Marcel makes his way to the vast window above his bedpost but there's nothing to see besides undisturbed hedges. He can hear a commossion and slamming doors in his own home - a reaction from his brothers to the noise as well.

"Shh." He quietens Louis with a swift motion, and swipes his phone off the bed. "It's nothing, baby."

He doesn't actually know whether it is something or not, and therefore tries infinitely hard not to panic. Louis is scared by all the sounds, unexplained and disturbing, but he's content with wrapping a comforter around himself for protection.

Marcel's worry ebbs and then jolts into the threshold of panic. He's about to open his door but it flies open before he can and there's Edward looking flustered and frustrated to high Hell.

"What the fuck is happening?" Marcel snaps at his older sibling, knowing full well that whatever it is, Edward was to blame.

Edward first looks for Louis and after finding him, he can feel his concern lessen. Louis had to be safe, most of all. He looks back at Marcel just when Harry comes to a sudden stop after a barreling sprint down the hallway.

"Come with me to take care of this." Edward was exasperated but also on red alert. He had a look about him that spoke millions of words about his annoyed master of a universe that everyone had to live in. "Harry, stay with Lou."

Somebody had broken onto their property with the express intent of dealing with Edward, the aftermath of working in a field like his. He grabbed Marcel by his collar and hauled him out of the room whilst pushing Harry in. His shoulder started to bleed again under his shirt from all the work, dripping crimson rivulets down his chest.

"Kitten." Harry ruins the fort that Louis found solitude in by tearing through it to get to the boy, dumping all the blankets on the ground with broken bits of string.

Louis would have brought it up and mourned the loss of his safe haven had Harry not bent over and swiftly lifted him up. Over his shoulder Louis was draped and he screamed so fearfully from it, throat raw and angry fists trying to convince Harry to put him down. He didn't care it was a state of emergency or that men had guns downstairs, all he knew was that Harry wasn't putting him down.

"Harry!" He shouted above the commotion downstairs, pounding on Harry's back ineffectively as he's walked out of the room. "Put me down! Please, H-Harry!"

"Hush, kitten." Harry opens his bedroom door after sticking to the wall so anyone below can't see them and locks it behind him. 

Harry makes his way over to his bed by weaving through discarded clothes and shoes. He only sets Louis down on his bed when they're close enough and the boy immediately turns over, crawling towards the headboard. The risk is too great to allow Louis to waver from paths near Harry and the latter grabs him by his bare ankles.

"Not going anywhere, kitten." He whispers in Louis' ear when the boy starts protesting with little whimpers and trying to free himself. 

His hands are cought by Harry's and his legs entangled with the other's. He is flattened on the mattress by a body heavier than his, protecting him so well by curling around him. Louis' face is partially blocked by the pillow he uses, but Harry still has to cover his ears for him when the gunshots ensue just below them.

**_[A/N: My sincerest apologies to Heisenberg and Erwin Schrödinger. - S xx]_ **


	15. FIFTEEN.

**_[A/N: *jazz hands* - S xx]_ **

Louis opened his eyes to the morning light and scent of gentle apple shampoo. He's being held close by the impenetrable cage that Harry's arms make up; his waist suffers from suffocation but his face is tucked into his captor's neck comfortably. One arm strikingly crosses his back to shield the entire expanse, a large palm cradling the back of his skull.

It's _impossible_ to a move an inch without disturbing Harry's tranquility, so Louis remains immobile. He sniffles and closes his eyes again with frightening memories of blazing gunshots and echoing rifles. His ears were still ringing and his cheeks were dry, chapped with the remnants of tears. 

Last night was horrific despite being locked away safely in Harry's room with the man himself. He fretted over Marcel and Edward, troubled immensely by the possibility that they could have been hurt. Nothing from his perspective was altered however, and an outsider could never tell that a riot took place just below. 

The birds were singing to each other and cars were speeding down the street, electronic gates working on their steel rails. Sunshine filtered into the room through the thin white lining of Harry's drawn curtains, directly burning Louis' exposed skin. 

Unable to convince himself of falling asleep, Louis sticks to staying conscience. He listens to Harry's soft, muffled snores in his ear by resting his cheek on the man's shoulder. With his fingertip, Louis traced the many tattooed images covering Harry's skin. The muscle was firm and unflinching beneath Louis' touch, Harry's breath unwavering under these ministrations.

After ten minutes there was a twitch in the fingers fanned out over Louis' back and Harry kept his eyelids sealed. He cleared his throat but still spoke like sandpapery allurement, the product of seductive silk and callous huskiness.

"Morning, kitten." Harry squeezes his victim's hips and belts his arms around that slender figure. 

"Hi." Louis mumbled softly, almost to himself, and hadn't stopped tracing Harry's inked markings. 

"Did you sleep well?" The man chuckled, laying a kiss where his lips felt Louis' pulse.

Louis squirmed but it was far from being unpleasant. "Not really."

"I know, kitten." Harry sighed in an ambiguous monotone. He was _bothered_ by the fact that Louis hadn't rested fully last night, but also knowing that there was no changing their lifestyle. "I promise you'll sleep peacefully tonight."

"How can you promise that?" Louis asked humbly, gasping when his knee is bent and hitched over Harry's hip. 

Harry nuzzled his neck from where he's between the pillow and Louis' skin, a little grumble coming from him. "It's a surprise, kitten."

The time dictated by Harry's annoying digital alarm clock alerted them at seven they ought to be on the move. Harry almost didn't surrender to convention and cocooned them in his white silk sheet, eliciting sweet giggles from Louis as he hid them both from the outside world.

"It's buzzing, H." Louis tells him blatantly, wiggling restlessly to put the obnoxious tune off.

"I noticed, kitten."

Harry playfully growled and when Louis rolled onto his front, nipped the boy's shoulderblades. He climbed on top of the amused boy so his arms encased Louis' form on either side, drawing him back each time Louis ventured further. The boy couldn't reach for anything when Harry took his curled fists and pinned them to the mattress.

"I should get you a little headband." Harry kissed the top of Louis' head and heard his captive giggle. "Really make you my kitten."

Louis' laughter was musical and settling to a heart's tortured rhythm. He felt Harry's lips on his nape and moving lower to his back. Shoulderblades and each knob of his arched spine felt a delicate kiss from Harry's lips. His T-shirt was rucked up to expose more skin, honeyed skin glowing under the sun's subtle praise.

"Kitten, what's your favourite colour?" Harry held his lips on a bump of Louis' spine, mumbling his words so they're imprinted there. 

"White." Louis breathed, chest heaving each intake of air. He hoped his nerves weren't so prominently displayed as in his rapidly beating heart.

Harry moved to the next knob, a little peck for its predecessor was granted. "That's an interesting choice. White is pure, just like my kitten."

Louis blushed wildly and hid his face in his folded arms, goosebumps arising as Harry moved further down. Eventually it came to the faint dimples at the base of his spine that the man kissed and worshipped. Harry rubbed Louis' sides with warm, calloused palms. 

He had the voluptuous curve of Louis' clothed derriere presented to him, its sinful appeal pressed to his chest as he scattered kisses on the boy's lower back. Louis' skin was toasty and golden, so supple to touch and delicate to touch upon with lips. Harry couldn't help but dip a little lower.

Louis squeaked and pushed him away, missing a kick to Harry's ribcage when he desperately scrambled away. He pulled the covers up with him, panting with fear for himself, hiding himself behind him.

"I'm sorry, kitten. I'm sorry, baby." Harry felt like an utter fool when he neared the spooked boy to soothe him. "I shouldn't have pushed you. Forgive me, love."

He gets an uncertain once-over from Louis that leaves Harry gutted. How could he ever be so irresponsible and impulsive? Louis has been taken advantage of before and he's placed his trust in these brothers. Harry cupped Louis' face in both hands and embraced the anxious other, bundles of sheets and all.

"I'm such a bastard." Harry kissed Louis' forehead and made sure the latter was fully covered. "Never again, baby. I'm sorry I didn't ask you first."

Louis agrees and he shows that Harry's forgiven by holding the man's bony, tattooed wrist. He secures it over his tummy and sighs contentedly. "It's okay now, H."

"Hmm." Harry closed his eyes and nosed along Louis' hairline. "Thank you, kitten."

Louis traced an 'H' on Harry's pectoral. "Your alarm clock is still buzzing."

  
* * * * *  


Louis was told very firmly not to go downstairs while a crew cleaned up whatever mess had been made. He nodded and made no attempt at questioning that order, until he was on his way down the hallway to Edward's room.

He was in Marcel's shirt still from last night and had no shoes on, dragging his feet against the plush red carpet to feel its fine texture. His walking pace slowed down at the height of the staircase where he could peek over the railing and see what lay below. 

It was much less than pleasing. Louis felt _sick_ upon the first glance on such a gory scene.

Blood streaked the floor, perfect cream porcelain tile littered with broken glass and rivines of red. Besides the scarlet red marks and splatters, a gun lay strewn some distance away from the shattered window and another alongside it. Louis' insides churned until he was nauseous and dizzy from seeing the gruesome state of such a magnificent mansion.

A handprint of crimsom red was dragged across the front door and just below it the fragmented bits of a corpse's skull was etched into the wood. Less than a handful of people, all burly men in plastic suits, were sweeping down the area and ignoring Louis' inquisitive form above them. He was gripping the railing so tight that his nails scratched the wood, splinters under them so his skin bled.

Formulating the association between such _horror_ and the Styles brothers made Louis sick to his stomach. They were so sweet to him, so caring. Why in any lifetime would they do this with their capabilities?

There were no bodies to see being picked off in pieces from the floor but the remnants of their memory were good enough. Louis clutched his front and jumped back when someone cleared their throat to his left. His head snapped in that direction and he stepped back involuntarily, something foreign and _frightened_ filling his senses.

He swallowed thickly but still couldn't breathe. Edward had his arms crossed and gaze unwielding, an unsettling electric power looming about that green shade. Its intensity was fierce and Louis felt like its prey. 

"Make your choice then, sweetlips." Edward holds his hands up helplessly and Louis can _imagine_ the blood on them. "I've killed people and I'll do it again, as have my brothers. You can stay or you can leave us now."

Wide-eyed and a little unstable with all this new information, Louis' mouth goes dry. He balls up his fists and looks at his feet for a heartbeat. His subconscious is screaming at him to be humane and leave, walk out that door and lack any excitement in his life henceforth. Louis chews his lip harshly and flinches when someone shouts to someone else.

"Will you ever hurt me?" Louis asks without looking up. 

Edward doesn't change his facial expression. "Never intentionally. This life of ours is filled with events like last night but I can guarantee that you'll always be safe with us."

"Okay." Louis scratches his own inner forearm and looks up nervously, stepping away from the railing to block out more of his peripheral. "Wh-What if I didn't want to stay?"

Something flared in Edward's chest, akin to misery and rage. His jaw tightened and his glare narrowed. "The people who watch us, like those who came here last night, will know who you are and could grab you whenever they want to."

Louis was scared of hearing that and glanced up to find Edward's eyes trained darkly on him, horror clouding reason. Passion was always Edward's weakness. "Y-You wouldn't......try to save me?"

"I don't have an answer to that." Edward answered curtly, it stung his own heart as much as Louis' to whisper it. "You'd no longer be my responsibilty and you wouldn't want me to save you."

Louis' eyes reddened with the threat of impending tears when he met Edward's gaze bravely. He wiped the two that escaped angrily with the back of his hand and felt too much pain welling in his chest for it to not sink into his mind. Rejected and wounded, Louis nodded.

"I want to go home." He spoke brokenly, a cracked voice and heavy head. 

Edward felt like a demon floated into his chest and drowned the organ most vital for existing. "I don't want you to."

Louis frowned in confusion. "What?"

"You're my baby." Edward spoke crisp and clear, an authority in his voice that nobody else had. "You're home is with me."

"I don't understand." Louis almost wailed, shuffling closer to the bipolar specimen of a man. "You don't want me h-here. You said it was _my_ choice."

Edward's arms fell to his sides and he walked towards Louis in two strides, his heart extended in the palm of his hand. "Yes, and afterwards I realised that I'd save you from the devil himself. I _was_ going to give you a chance to decide but now I've decided for you."

Louis looks up at him with his head tilted back a little so that green could meet blue. He had awe and apprehension in the sapphire oceans of his eyes and Louis wasn't masking any of it. His thin, bubblegum pink lips were parted and his mind raced with the dawn of realisation.

"Such a sweet boy." Edward reached up and brushed Louis' light fringe away from his eyes, using just his fingertips. "What a fool I'd be to let you slip away."

"So I can stay?" Louis took a minute step forward so he was able to feel the warmth radiating off Edward's body. He got up on his tiptoes, hands encircling the man's forearms to steady himself. "I don't want to leave."

Edward smiled so broadly for the first time since he saw the light of the world for what it was. He swept Louis off the ground and swung him gently, arms banded around the boy's waist. His lips were sure to find Louis' and kiss him silly, hands seeking the plump flesh of sinful thighs. Louis did him a favour of hooking those captivating limbs over Edward's hips, ankles crossed. 

"I should show you my world." Edward contemplated out loud to the boy, mumbling against Louis' lips that tasted like toothpaste and _him._ "Tonight."

Louis holds Edward's shoulders and straightens himself when he finds that they're moving, towards Edward's bedroom door. "What's in your world?"

Edward kicked his door shut behind them. He walked through the pitch black atmosphere of his palace to his bed where he tossed Louis, smirking when Louis hid his face from his little bounce on the mattress. It wasn't enough to just crawl on top of the boy and cuddle him that way, hold him in such a way that for many heartbeats Edward felt no emotional pain. He stripped off his shirt and took Louis' hands in his. 

"You want to know what's in my world?" Edward compared Louis' precious hands to his in size, linking their fingers together. 

Louis had his head back, eyes peering up with intent curiosity. He parted his knees when Edward found a place between him, looming over him. "Yes please, Daddy."

"Certainly, baby." Edward kisses Louis' cheek and releases his hands in favour of exploring the boy's throat with his lips. "There are guns and knives. Enemies and friends use them."

Louis let Edward's arm snake its way underneath him, arched off the bed by force. He looks into those deep green eyes hovering so close to him and lays his cold fingers over the owner's bare torso. "That's so mean."

"Yes it is." Edward chuckles and kisses him hard, because when will anyone encounter a soul as innocent as Louis' ever again? "There are very bad people in charge of what I do."

"Why do you do it?" Louis asks him, angling his neck so Edward has further access to it. 

"Excitement, princess. Evil makes a sport in what we do." Edward sucks a bright red bruise into Louis' neck, feeling the rush of blood under his teeth and tongue. "It's an invigoroating sport and I am most privileged."

"Because?" 

Edward smiles and gives a long sigh, stretching his body out over Louis' so the boy is flattened beneath him. "I control all the pieces, baby."

Louis made a sound of acknowledgement and licked his lips, the lingering taste of Edward being swiped off by his tongue. He wiggled his hips a little to get more comfortable and Edward hissed as the friction challenged his will power. 

"Sorry, Daddy." His boy whispered under his breath once Louis realised his mistake. 

"It's alright, princess." Edward replied with a reassuring smugness about the curl of his lip. "I know you aren't ready for anything and I'd rather not be tempted."

Louis' cheeks turned a graceful pink, flushed from their plump structure down to his racing pulse. He refrained from any other movement. "Did- Did I tempt you?"

"You _always_ tempt me." Edward confesses in earnest. He rubs up and down Louis' sides like the contact made both their souls less rampant. "I will fetch you from school today."

"Okay." Louis yawns despite just having woken up. "Won't it be a little early?"

"I'll take you shopping first." His dominant boyfriend allows Louis the space to rub his eyes before getting a little possessive about the boy's space. "I plan to show you off, princess."

Louis rolls his eyes fondly and steals one of Edward's pillows to use as a cradle for his head. "Don't objectify me, Daddy."

"I'd never, baby." Edward nuzzles Louis' neck and rubs odd circles into Louis' tummy using his thumbs. "I'd actually like to purchase a pair of handcuffs."

Bright blue eyes grew wide like gemstones being unveiled bit by bit to the world. Scandalised, Louis tried - and unfavourably failed - to hide his blush. _"Handcuffs?"_

"Why yes." Edward chuckled in a hoarse and low manner that causes salacious vibrations in each twist of Louis' spine. "I have to keep you tied to me somehow, princess."

"Oh." Louis sniffles and fists the front of Edward's shirt. "Is it that easy to get lost?"

Edward hummed into Louis' tummy where he hid his visage so skilfully. Deft fingers worked their way into Louis' skin so it soothed whatever stretched muscle or pained tissue lingered there. He closed his eyes and sucked in large gasps of air that's singing through his veins with Louis' scent and taste. 

"It's that easy to have someone try to separate us." Edward mournfully admitted, nipping at Louis' small belly button and his soft as a wonder tummy pudge. "You're going to stick with me no matter what, princess."

"Yes, Daddy." Louis obediently acquisces and Edward rewards him with a kiss pressed right on his pouted lips. "Do you......- Do you still want me, Daddy?"

"What do you mean, sweetlips?" Edward sat back on his haunches between Louis' thighs and drew the boy up onto his lap, an arm clasped around his back and their faces an inch apart. 

"Do you....-" Louis trailed off as his face heated up and he looked away from Edward's intense curiosity. "Do you still want to touch me?"

"I do, baby, but I won't be laying a hand on any part of you that you disagree with." Edward assures him, unaware that Louis isn't rooting for _this_ response. "Where's this question coming from, princess?"

Louis bit his lip hard enough for the sting to be significant. He hadn't allowed Harry to touch him intimately and he fought with himself on whether it was hypocritical or not. With Harry, their loosely termed relationship was as a critically different state to that of his and Edward's. He was familiar with most of the man's body already and Edward with his.

He didn't know how else to say it other than reluctantly crash his lips into Edward's and recover from the surprised gasp he elicits from the man. Edward's palms tighten on his waist and Louis ignores the aches from his injured foot to climb up on his kneels. He stood taller than Edward and used his hands to frame the man's face, directing their kiss as it deepened.

When there was enough of Edward's taste in his mouth and the man has melted into him, Louis starts to fret a little. His hand shivered and shook as it fell from Edward's shoulder and he whimpered spinelessly when it made contact with Edward's groin.

 _"Baby."_ Edward growled as if he were depraved and bit Louis' bottom lip hard enough for it to bleed.

With a faint whimper from the taste of blood on his tongue, Louis fists the front of Edward's shirt and tightens his grip. Edward grabs Louis' wrist before any more pressure dare be exerted and he exude the true arousal icing his veins.

"Not now, sweetlips." Edward clasps the back of Louis' head and drags his lips across the boy's cheek. "You're not ready, and neither am I."

Inexperienced as he was, Louis still knew when to demand a reward. "Please, Daddy. Just a taste."

Edward couldn't smirk when he was in this much pain. He groaned with a strangled voice and deepened his kiss to Louis, licking into the boy's mouth. He was but a weak man made mortal so that Louis can destroy him with sparkling blue eyes and innocence.

"Okay." Edward thrust himself forward and Louis tumbled onto his back, laid out flat for his boyfriend's affection. "Just a taste for you, princess."

Green became pitch black as Edward's eyes dilated to pits of lust and fervour. He kissed Louis languidly before dropping his mouth to the boy's chest, where he shoved the fabric of Louis' shirt away. Being both gentle and rough created the sensations of bubbling pleasure boiling Louis' blood, letting it sing through his veins. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head roll back onto the pillow, a tear rolling down his cheek. He was _scared and eager_ , a fierce combination. While his skin prickled with electricity and the grace of Edward's lips circling his pink nipple, his anxiety rocketed to maddening levels.

His trust awarded to Edward is what convinced him that the man isn't using him, won't ever do that. He swallowed thickly and tasted salt on his lips, peering down over his panting chest at Edward. "Daddy."

"Hush now." Edward comes back up to him, lips glistening with saliva. "Is everything alright, baby? I'll stop whenever you want."

"No." Louis didn't want this pleasure to cease. He pushed Edward back down and laced his fingers through the man's curls, jolting when a hot suction closed around his sensitive nipple.

Edward's spine curved so he could fit comfortably between Louis' legs. He suckled on Louis' erect nipples until they were bright red and burning with the contact on air. One thumb rolled over the other nipple when one was being nursed, each act causing Louis to jerk or whine.

His boy was so _present_ in bed with him. He made all these sounds and whimpers that were mixtures of pain, pleasure and enthusiasm. Edward felt his own boxers tightening cruelly when he wished he could just spend his life giving Louis pleasure.

Louis' skin tasted like sunshine and it was warm to the touch. Edward dipped into his belly button with his tongue when he reached, sucking a bright bruise just above the landmark. Louis loved getting marked up, he decided. It made the boy feel floaty and satisfied, protected by the man that's granting him so many exceptional feelings.

"Alright, princess?" Edward had to check when it came to Louis' impending waistband. He pinched it between his fingers. "Can I take this off, love? Do you want me to stop?"

Louis distractedly rubbed his wet cheeks free of tears and curled his toes. He nods to say it's fine with him and first felt a peck on his lips, smiling into it when Edward coaxed some response.

"I don't want my baby upset ever." Edward tilted Louis' chin back and thumbed off the damp streaks. Green regarded blue with concern. "I don't think we'll take this off today. Is that alright, princess?"

Again, Louis nodded and sniffled a little too loudly. Edward was too far gone with this boy to find it anything but endearing. Looking down at the gorgeous creature he had under him, Edward kisses Louis again with too much tongue and teeth. He grinds down on the boy so Louis whimpers into his mouth. 

"Daddy." Louis breathed desperately, hooking his thighs over Edward's hips and not ignoring the friction of his fattening clothed erection.

"That's it, baby." Edward's fists clenched around the corners of Louis' pillow, his concentrated frown buried in the boy's neck. "Give it all to me."

He moved his hips against Louis' in eager circles. His thrusts were slow and purposeful, a drag and snap of his bulging manhood to rub Louis off. He reached down and hiked Louis' thighs up higher, meeting the boy's lips with his own. The new angle was convenient for him to move faster, hungrier for it.

Hardly touching Louis and Edward was as fragile as he's ever been. His tongue invades Louis' mouth and flicks against the smaller, pink muscle in a dance. Louis starts breathing harshly and making a string of _'uh uh uh'_ noises, his back arched once before spilling into his pants. 

He was going to be Louis' first sexual experience and under no circumstance will he let it be disappointing. His tongue tangled with Louis' while he dug his hips into the delicate ones pinned under his, moaning in a rhythm. Louis was so delicate, so precious like this when he wanted something he didn't know how to ask for.

"Feel good, baby?" Edward kissed Louis' fingertips when they brushed his lips. "Say something. Daddy wants to hear that lovely voice of yours."

Louis gripped Edward's shirt at the back and gasped as a shudder rocked his body. The mattress beneath him squeaked as he was buried deeper in, a part of him he's previously neglected starting to throb. The ache to be with Edward in this way was making him unpleasantly pained.

"Daddy." He pleaded blindly into Edward's scratchy jaw. "F-Feels- _ah!_ "

"Hmm." Edward gyrated his hips against Louis', spreading his boy's thighs even further. "You're my wonder, baby. My good boy. You always make Daddy feel so good."

Edward watches Louis' orgasm in awe of the latter's beauty. His lips were bitten raw and his eyes were screwed shut, fingers fisted into the sheets as his body spasmed around him. Edward drank in the exotic image before his own climax came barrelling down on him. Three thrusts upward against where Louis was so sensitive, and Edward came in his pants like an adolescent. 

"Fuck. You're _mine_." Edward groaned into Louis' sweaty neck while gnawing on the damp skin. 

Louis' eyes were wide open but he was staring at nothing. He whimpered brokenly from the smallest movement against him, his hands fell to the bed and he sniffed when Edward tried to push away.

 _"No."_ Louis grappled for something of the man to hold onto, and tears rolled down the corners of his burning eyes when Edward withdrew anyway. _"Daddy."_

"I'm here, baby." Edward kissed all over Louis' face so the boy was consoled, tasting salt from the tiny pecks. "Are you with me, baby? Where are you right now?"

Louis wanted to take off what was keeping the moisture captive in his underwear and wiggled desperately. He feels warm and fuzzy all over, like he's lying wrapped up in Edward and not a bed. His hands try to reach out but all he can see is green, stormy emerald green that's cradling him so protectively.

Edward is in awe of Louis going so deep into his orgasm that he slipped into subspace. He couldn't comprehend his boy being so innocent yet so willing to explore.

"Sweet boy." Edward framed Louis' face with both hands, agile thumbs rub circles into the boy's cheeks. "Come back to Daddy, baby. I need to clean you up."

Louis struggled a bit with returning to reality. He frowned in the cutest way and Edward kissed him many a time instead of breathing for his own good. "W-What happened?"

Edward admired Louis' flushed skin and blushing cheeks. He bumped his nose against Louis' and smiled when the boy became embarrassed. "That was subspace, sweetlips. It happens when you feel that amazing."

"I-Is it just for....-" Louis' pink cheeks deepen to a shade of red. 

"Yes, baby. Only in sex." Edward nibbled on Louis' earlobe and soothed Louis by rubbing his back. "Was it good, princess?"

"Hmm." Louis felt sleepy after their naughty activites and mewled when Edward snapped the waistband of his sweatpants. "Daddy, stop."

"We need to clean you up, gorgeous." Edward replied, sliding away from Louis and standing up. "Do you want me to do it?"

Louis nodded shyly and preened when Edward gave him a kiss on his forehead, a familiar butterfly sensation fluttering in his tummy. "Yes, Daddy. Please."

"Such a sweet boy you are." Edward parted from him and strode into the dim bathroom. 

Louis did what he knew Edward wanted and kicked off his sweatpants, followed by his underwear. He was no longer shy with his body around Edward because there had to be to reason for it. This new bravery came with jittery words and shivering fingertips. Louis _trusts_ Edward.

Said man returned from the bathroom after changing his undergarments and coming back with just boxer briefs. He questioned Louis' half nude state with a raised eyebrow when he sat at the edge of the bed.

"What's this then?" He grabbed Louis' ankles and dragged his boyfriend closer to him, watching Louis squirm and try to guard his chastity. "Why is my baby all naked for me?"

Louis giggled unabashedly and loud as free when Edward tickled the underside of his foot. He kicked his ankles free and sucked in a sharp breath when the man leaned in to kiss his belly button. Green eyes stayed trained on Louis' nervous sapphires, warning them of his intentions.

"You are such a beauty, princess." Edward's eyes raked over Louis' partially naked body from shoulders to the curve of his bum, all open to him. "Can I clean you up with just myself, baby?"

"What do you mean?" Louis asked, intrigued. 

Edward looked at Louis again. His boy was far more than just a sight for sore eyes. He had the cutest tummy that's all soft and warm for when Edward wants to cuddle him there. It had the small splatters of come from his first orgasm minutes ago and Louis breathed so deeply that his ribcage became visible each time.

The sight of Louis' bare thighs, pink and hairless where they were only a little parted was enough to make Edward's mouth water. He dared to imagine what a life between those delicious mounds would be like. Louis had a c*ck not superior in size but so pink and a virgin still, lying flaccid on the boy's tummy. 

Edward bets all this will wrap around him whenever he pleased once he worked Louis up to that level. Thoughts of taking Louis against a wall and roughly under his sheets, the silk being a contrast to how he'd pound into his boy, were risking another bout of arousal.

"Lie back for me, princess." Edward kissed Louis' temple and sent him on his back, hands pinned to his torso. 

Blue eyes were wide and curious as Edward used his arms for support and lowered himself onto Louis' front. He swiped his tongue across a splatter of white residue that lay on the boy's tummy and moaned at the taste. Even this was sweet from Louis.

He waited for argument but none came. Louis was just watching him so intently, emotions unreadable as they flittered across his features. His abdomen clenched when he breathed and Edward framed his waist before licking another spot. His love-bite on Louis' hip was still there and it got a kiss.

"Baby." Edward massaged where thigh met pelvis, smooth and supple to the touch. "Can I touch you here? Is this alright for you?"

"Yes, Daddy." Louis panted raggedly and eagerly anticipated more attention on his lower half.

Edward pressed a kiss to the tip of Louis' c*ck. He heard Louis whine and relaxed his nerves with many more pecks peppered around the soft length. Bit by bit, Edward kissed or kitten licked Louis' sensitive c*ck until he reached the base. He worked first on Louis' thighs, kneading the flesh and biting the pale skin.

"You're so beautiful, princess. I may never come up from down here." Edward smirked in a divine, sensual kind of way. 

Louis' eyes rolled to the back of his skull when Edward nuzzled his sac and cleaned off the remnants of come with his lips. A skilful tongue circled his balls and Louis had to fight with every ounce of power to keep from getting hard. His first orgasm was still at hand, his blood and brain still buzzing from it.

When Louis was perfectly clean of his own release, Edward returned to his eye level. Those deep green eyes met Louis' and he settled into a space beside the boy. Louis rolled onto his side and snuggled into the man's chest where he could hide himself in the cage of arms wrapped around him. 

"How are you feeling?" Edward's knuckles brushed Louis' spine from nape to the small of his back. 

Louis stretched himself out so his arms could lock around Edward's neck and his toes grazed the man's ankles. "I feel better than I've ever felt before."

"Is that so?" When Edward turned onto his back, Louis goes with him so he rested on top of the man. "Are you ready to go to school?"

"No." Louis laughed with crinkly eyes and a brilliance about his glowing skin. "Are you ready to....go to work?"

He heard Edward chuckle in his ear as well as the faint coarse vibrations that his tattooed chest exuded. "Would you like to learn how to use a gun, sweetlips?"

"No." Louis gasped as if the question were outrageous. "I could watch you though."

"Yeah? You'd like to see that?" Edward looked down at Louis, marvelling at the boy's intrigue. 

"Aha." Louis pushed himself up, palms pressed to Edward's chest. 

His legs fell on either side of Edward, his T-shirt stretching thinly over the curve of his behind. He arched his back to crack the small knuckles between each disk and Edward admired his figure. Louis had curves in all the ideal places. Edward held onto Louis' clothed hips and rubbed the supple skin.

"Come back down here, princess." Edward demanded, lips turning blue with the cold after not touching Louis' for too long. "Daddy wants a kiss."

Louis blushed and dipped low enough to press his lips to Edward's. It was a tiny peck. "How's that?"

"Positively indecent." Edward scoffs with a devious smirk. He hugs Louis' waist and squeezes. "A proper kiss, princess."

Louis succumbs to the urge for contact and unites their lips in a sweet, prolonged kiss. He curls his fingers against Edward's cheek and scratched lightly at the man's stubble. He smiled into their slow, fluid kiss. They no longer had separate tastes but one unified essence.

"Much better." Edward complimented Louis' triumph and winked when the boy turned bright red in his beautiful face.

  
* * * * *  


"Lou!" Niall shouted across the school parking lot to his best friend whilst clasping Liam's hand to drag him along.

Louis himself was fidgeting with the pair of Ray Bans perched on the bridge of his nose. Marcel put them there after discovering they were Harry's and tucked into a compartment under his car's dashboard. The wide, bronze lenses were obstructive to Louis' regular tested glasses and he had to continually control where they sat.

"You look beautiful, babydoll." Marcel had a bust lip today and a slit eyebrow that looked very rebellious. 

He gave Louis a kiss right beside his temple and Louis stopped him from rubbing the exhaustion that left his eyes bloodshot. Marcel's glasses were shattered yesterday and he had to use his contacts, a tinted pair that was a gift from Edward. They made Marcel's eyes actually dead black with a silver sliver around the circumference.

"So do you." Louis beamed up brighter than the sun that's bearing down on them, and stretched a little excitedly on his toes. "I like the new eye colour very much."

"Yeah?" Marcel sniffs and cracks the knuckles on his fist. "Maybe I'll keep it up just for you, babydoll."

"Yay." Louis cheered beneath his breath and pouted when Marcel took charge of brushing aside his chestnut fringe. 

Niall had caught up to them by now and was chewing a stick of strawberry gum. Liam was just tucking his phone into his back pocket when he looked up and Louis had threaded his fingers through Marcel's. He liked to think he gained height as well as grounding when he physically held onto the triplets.

"Hey." Niall held out a replica of his current gum and Louis accepted happily. "I didn't think you'd come today."

Louis pushed the sunglasses up again and unwrapped his bubblegum. He frowned a little. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well-" Niall regarded Marcel warily. "-everyone knows about what happened last night."

Marcel's hand tightened inexplicably on Louis' palm, his thumb digging painful circles into the boy's skin. He had to be bruising. Louis noticed this change easily and reached over to grip Marcel's forearm with his free hand.

It was inevitable that the entire city would come to know what went down under one roof of the most notorious family in town. Marcel is surprised it hadn't been printed on billboards and shouted at them the second he drove out the safety of his gate. He gripped Louis' hand with harsh strength and it nearly caused loss of blood.

"I'm going in." He brings his lips to Louis' ear and whispers in the boy's ear. "You're free in the second session so meet me behind Block C."

Louis nods and releases Marcel's arm in favour of redeeming his second kiss from the man of the day. He smiles when the delicate touch grazes his temple and he's abandoned to the safety of his friends. Niall is nibbling on a chunk of chocolate when he's watching Louis with inquisitive eyes.

"So Lou-" Niall loops his arm through Louis' and leads his friend towards the school building. "-were you there when it all went down last night?"

"What?" He bit his lip aggressively when the question was processed. Harry this morning warned him about what to say when asked for details. He's as important as them in their social gamble. 

"The newspapers said some awful things." Liam intervenes with cautious and worried eyes. "We're not too happy with you being there if stuff like that is happening."

Louis frowned defensively and turned to gaze down at his shoes. "I'm fine and I wasn't there when anything happened."

"Leave him alone, Liam." Niall glared at his boyfriend with a threatening look. "There's three of them and one of him. He's not going to get hurt."

Louis thanks his friend by giggling and leaning into him. Their first class is English and Louis sits through something for the first time in what feels like a while without any member of the Styles lineage present. He pays attention to the lesson and does work twice as quickly as he normally would.

He receives his assignment for the semester and homework sheet before leaving the class, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Whilst dragging his feet towards his locker, Louis fidgets with the cross necklace gifted to him by Edward. It's a cool and heavy weight against his chest that many other students look at before glancing any other way.

Block C is where his next lesson is after his free second period so Louis swaps out his books before leaving the building. He hums to himself a mindless tune on his way to the giant science building with anatomic stickers posted at the door. Moving behind the structure isn't difficult and soon he's staring down the barrel of something _perculiar_.

"Hey babydoll." Marcel stands from where he was crouching, visible cigarette pinched between his fingers. 

He blows out two grey rings of smoke into the air, before stepping up to Louis and taking the boy's hand. The green of his eyes is less in ratio to the black hollowness. Marcel's hand creeps around Louis' waist and onto the small of his back, arching the boy into him. Louis balances himself by grasping his captor's biceps. 

"Were you out here for the entire first lesson?" Louis asks him softly, peering up vertically into those intoxicated eyes. 

"Yes." Marcel sighs and reels Louis in by wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders, almost smothering the latter male. 

Louis hums quietly and places his hands on Marcel's shoulderblades. He rested his cheek on the taller man's shoulder when Marcel takes another drag of his cigarette whilst still around him. 

"Why?" He found Marcel's hand on his back and linked their fingers together as an intricate unit, swaying ever so slightly as they lean against each other. 

"I'd rather not go in there just yet." Marcel's lips quiver as he exhales the silver puff of air. "All anyone's going to do is look at me like I drown puppies for a living."

Louis chokes on a short spurt of laughter before waving off the wisps of toxic air scratching his throat externally. "I can protect you from all the bad people."

Marcel chuckles with whispers of fog being exhaled through his plump lips, redder and swollen from the nicotine. "That's just what I needed to hear, babydoll."

Just like that, Louis let's himself waste valuable time standing illegally behind a school building with Marcel. He sometimes closes his eyes just to get some minor rest, only to be shaken conscious by his companion.

"Harry has rugby practice. What say we go have a look?" Marcel offers when Louis' looking up at him expectantly.

"I'd like that."

Their school's property is designed on large enough grounds so that two aggressive sports could be conducted on two separate fields. The football field was grand and lush while the rugby field was evidently in more use. The players were rough and dug their heels into the ground, kicked up dirt and flattened grass. Nothing survived by the weekend when it got repainted and groomed.

Marcel leads Louis with their hands linked between them, around the bleachers to the stands hoisted in the center of the field. A class was out there for a gym lesson while the open rugby team was practising quite loudly on the other end. A solid team of frightening boys made the school's champion team, each one violent and intimidating.

"They're about to go out. Wait here." Marcel put his fingers to his mouth and whistled evenly for a long stretch.

One head turned in the huddled bunch of athletes, one in a black team jersey and white shorts. Harry's tattoos were remarkably visible even from this distance and he jogged over to them with a brilliant smile, his hair restricted to a bun. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his stray curls were damp ringlets.

"Hello, kitten." Harry was not reluctant to dip his height and kiss Louis right on his rosy lips. 

"Hi." Louis chirped, hand still secured in Marcel's. 

"To what do I owe this honour?" Harry steps to the side to grab his water bottle, of which he extracts a sip only to spit it back out onto the grass.

"We came to watch you play." Louis feels his bag being taken off his shoulder and hooked over Marcel's instead. "Can we?"

"Course you can, kitten." Harry's lips peck Louis' warm cheek and he tosses his bottle to the bunch in an ice bucket. "In fact, I'll play this game just for you."

Whilst visibly giddy, Louis was made to sit three levels higher than where the bags and bottles of the rugby players were. He crossed his legs to fit on the plastic seat and Marcel draped his arm around the boy's narrower shoulders.

"How was your first class?" Marcel pushes his hair back and blinks a little to remove itchiness from his contacts.

Louis wraps his hands around his own ankles. "It was English. We didn't really do much."

"I have English next." Marcel sighs. "I suspect there'll be a pop quiz of sorts."

"Those are fun." Louis comments conversationally. "Don't you think?"

Marcel looked down into Louis' puzzling, commanding blue eyes. He brings his lips down to the spot between the boy's eyes, so that Louis can grin as wide as he does. The sun gives him an ethereal internal glow that leaves him abandoned to natural beauty. It was a breathtaking sight to see a person lit up so brightly, a halo so prominent that it proved his innocence.

"I believe you, babydoll." Marcel cracks his knuckles where his arm rests over Louis' shoulders. "I have to visit the library today. Would you like to come with me after school?"

Louis pouts when he remembers his plans with Edward. A long, quiet day in the library sounds like a heck of a plan to him and he'd easily become excited for such an event. He leans into Marcel's side a bit more and licks his lips, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"I can't." Louis says, saddened. "Can we go tomorrow?"

Marcel looks up to watch the rugby couch blow a curt whistle, signalling that the team in jerseys and the team that went shirtless instead of wearing a different colour, line up on opposing sides. "Why not today, babydoll?"

"Edward promised to take me somewhere." Louis recalls the last time he accompanied Edward partially to one of his social gatherings. He _knows_ he can't chicken out a second time. "I have to go with him."

"Have to?"

"Aha." Louis sits up straight and waves back when Harry holds up two fingers in a small wave. "I also want to go."

"So he told you then?" Marcel is still watching Louis, gauging the boy's behaviour and responses to the environment. "About our family?"

"Um-" Louis looks down at his lap once the game starts and Harry is a blurry figure with the rugby ball tucked under his arm. "Not- Not everything. He promised to tell me after tonight."

Marcel nods stiffly and pries his gaze away from his petite companion. He finds out that it uneases his nerves to think that Louis is so close to knowing who they are, what they are at heart. Even so there was no change in Louis' behavior around them. It isn't difficult to gather that Louis meant a lot to Edward, if not being the fine strand of thread keeping the man's sanity together.

Louis cheers proudly when Harry tosses the ball over a hoisted point and scores enough points. As it turns out, Harry is a passionate player when he's on the field. It was evident that either the sport or the violence behind it was in his blood when he dove, tackled and sprinted. Louis was surprised to see that with a notorious lumbar region, Harry was still able to take down players without a flinch.

There was an unfortunate point in the game that Louis had to bear witness. The game was riveting out on the field and Marcel was too distracted with toying with Louis' fingers to notice. Harry was blindsided by another player when he was close to the point of goal, but the process was hindered by him being thrown to the ground.

Harry crumbled and his cry was heard all the way from the stands. Louis shot up into a standing position, worry clouding his features when the game stopped just like time did. He watched both teams circle around Harry's moving form on the ground, shouts by the coach and students filling the air.

"Stay." Marcel wouldn't let Louis go to Harry despite the boy's attempts at freeing himself. "He's fine."

Louis bites his nails and hugs his middle with one free arm, ribcage constricting as breaths skidded past his lungs. An answer to prayers come in the form of the crowd separating when Harry leaps to his feet again, visibly uninjured. He looks to be in a fit of rage when he shoves the closest person away and goes for the suspect who caused his fumble.

"He needs to do this." Marcel says it but it's more to himself, a less than adequate sustenance for Louis.

A hand flies up to cover Louis' mouth when he witnesses Harry find who he sought. The man grabbed whoever it was, too far away to see clearly from this distance. Harry delivered a punch to the stranger, a blow so unpredicted and severe that the victim stumbled. That's when the coach stepped in, or tried to rather.

Players dispersed to avoid the fight whilst few waited to enjoy it. Louis' arms tightened around himself when his shock evolved into fear back into a mist of confusion. Harry caught the other player by the back of his neck and his fist dove into the male's jaw twice, shouting something that Louis couldn't decipher.

Blood came into view from where Louis stood and he could discern that Harry's knuckles were covered in it. His lip quivered noticeably from his mixed array of emotions; the fear, blatant horror, his _blind shock_. Louis curled into himself while Harry grew more outgoing, more obnoxiously extroverted.

The player who offended Harry was on his knees but that wasn't _good enough_ for the beast brewing in Harry's mind. It had to end here, his humiliation. He set out to play a decent game for _his Louis_ only to have it sabotaged by a bastard who can't comprehend his dedication. Harry wasn't going to stop until his lesson had been learnt.

Blood now splattered Harry's chest from the player's broken nose and dislocated jaw, the torn skin that sprayed crimson threads onto everyone nearest. The coach got to Harry and three other players hauled him off the unconscious opposition. Harry was like a bull set on one sheet of red, the deep blood red his own violence caused.

"Alright." Marcel stood up and dusted off his knees. 

He took Louis' hand in his _to ensure_ that he won't lose him. Fluidly, Marcel brought his hand to his lips and whistled in the same rhythm that he had initially. That's all it took for Harry to stop resisting and for his head to snap in their direction, a demented gaze coming with it.

"Are you afraid now, babydoll?" Marcel's palms found Louis' hips and his lips found the boy's ear. He was smirking.

Harry freed himself and disregarded the tragedy behind him. He was jogging over to them, an _epic contrast_ to before the game started. Louis was scared and he nodded to be honest. He watched Harry grow nearer and his fingers tightened on Marcel's sleeve. 

"He's coming straight for you, doll." Marcel whispers, voice gravely and made of silk. "Are you going to deny him?"


	16. SIXTEEN.

**_[A/N: PLEASE REFER TO WARNINGS AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS STORY BEFORE READING. Sooooo glad to finally hear that this story is getting out there more than it was. I'm so proud of YM and it surprised me by not doing as well as I'd hoped first. Thank you to everyone who has commented, voted and went so far as to tell others. My love to you. - S xx]_ **

"Eric, I need you to do something for me." Edward was wiping the warm blood off his knife's blade with the shirt of his deceased victim. 

It crept onto his fingers, staining them red like so many other lives have. They're permanently red now, swathed in the crimson grief of the people he destroyed. His own clothing was splattered with blood from how irresponsible he let himself be today with the twitching corpse strapped in a plastic chair.

He got to see Louis today. _All of Louis._ From his delicate fingertips to his glorious thighs and sinful posterior. Edward was high off the drug his petite boyfriend was to him, which led to his predatorial instincts morphing into ruthlessness. He could still feel Louis against him, under him. Every act he saw through was in Louis' name.

"Yes, Boss?" His right-hand man and most trusted goon was leafing through a property magazine. As Edward understood it, Eric was looking to buy his wife a new property so his mistress wasn't so close to her.

Edward set his knife down and tore off the shirt from his own shoulders, balling it up and tossing it into a rubbish heap. Some men were already disposing the body he walked away from, streaks of red and black marking his sculpted chest.

"Buy me a pair of handcuffs." Edward found his wallet and tossed more than enough money at the lounging, six foot ex Navy seal. "Line the edges with rubber on one side so it doesn't hurt."

Eric woke up and cracked his back before checking to make sure that his gun and car keys were still intact. "For the princess, Boss?"

Edward smirked while tossing his knife away into a drawer next to the one he had custom made earlier today. He was very much unlike his brothers, who both favoured keeping Louis a treasured secret. He was more of a man of instant gratification and demanded that everyone know the world's most precious creature belonged to them.

"Of course." Edward took out his phone and dialled Harry's number. "He's still mine and I'd like every fucker to know that."

Eric saluted him with an amused shake of his head before leaving with Edward's money and two men. Edward waited for them to be gone and he to be alone with the tainted scent of metallic blood, red fingerprints marring the sleek case of his iPhone, before holding the device to his ear.

  
* * * * *  


**"He's coming straight for you, doll." Marcel whispers, voice gravely and made of silk. "Are you going to deny him?"**

Louis was more than _slightly terrified_ as he stood imprisoned at the edge of the bleachers. The tips of his shoes were over the edge while Marcel's large hands were grasping his hips firmly, keeping him rooted to where he needed to be. Louis looked up and Harry was coming even closer, his stride broken by an athletic jog. 

He's caught between a rock and a hard place when making this decision. It's a choice between letting Harry touch him with literal and figurative blood on his hands - stains that his weak eyes can pick up from this distance - or running away to somewhere nobody can find him.

It comes down to less than a second left but Louis forces himself to relax, compares the goriness of an actual fight before his eyes to the aftermath of last night's violence. He let's Harry come to a stop in front of him, a head shorter because of Louis' height elevation, beaming up at him as though nothing gruesome had just taken place.

Marcel only let's Louis go when he deems it certain that the boy won't be escaping. Harry grabs onto Louis' hips with noticeably more caution than how he handled his unconscious victim, blood getting wiped off on the boy's shirt. He hoists Louis' petite figure off the bleachers, hearing the smaller male gasp and squeak as a result.

"I tried to play for you, kitten." Harry's lips resemble a pout, made dangerous by the monster he withheld in the green of his eyes. "I'll try again tomorrow."

Louis was stunned silent for long enough. He is wrapped around Harry by convenience, and involuntarily locked his arms around his captor's neck. It had to be a twisted desire that kept him this comfortable with a man that's so harsh. 

"Okay." He could only muster up the courage to say. He's not so much afraid of upsetting Harry as scared he fears that the man will leave him fuming. "You're a wonderful player."

Harry squeezes Louis' thigh where his large hands held on, a fresh smile of blissful achievement coming over his features. He kisses Louis' forehead. "Thank you, kitten."

"Is- Is that other boy okay?" Louis had to ask although he regrets it as soon as the words are uttered. 

Harry, however, handles it with cool detachment and swipes his bag off a bench with one hand. He starts for the gym showers with Louis still all around him. "Does it really matter, kitten?"

Louis looks over Harry's shoulder and sees Marcel folding up his Ray Bans, their eyes meet and the latter gives him a small, smug wave. The recipient has enough courage to smile and wave back, not half as doubtful as he once was. 

"What's your next class, kitten?" Harry makes it all the way to the showers without faltering. 

The small building is empty Harry let's Louis have the ground beneath his feet back. Lockers line the walls, all in the colour black or white. Louis sits on a harsh wooden bench with no back support in front of Harry's locker, flinching when a heavy gym bag gets dumped at his side.

"Biology." Louis blurts out, and at that moment not entirely certain whether it's true.

Harry sheds his shirt by pulling it over his back. Louis lowers his gaze to the ground where he can watch his one shoe prod at the other. All Harry's tattoos are on display from hips to neck where it curls around his clavicle in the necklace of inked thorns. The naked mermaid on his arm made Louis giggle.

"Something amusing you, baby?" Harry looked over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow and small chuckle. 

Louis tried to hide his laughter behind his folded knees but the effortless crinkled at the corners of his eyes gave him away. "No."

Harry rolls his eyes and turns around to cease the boy by his wrists, his fingers overlapping around such dainty joints. He leaned across when Louis tried hiding his glee, only to be caught and forced into a less than gentle kiss. The act of affection silences him and he managed to somehow have his fingers fanned across Harry's jaw.

Giggling into the kiss that's laden with nips and quaint smiles, Louis kicks his feet free so he can stretch closer. "You have a naked woman on your arm."

Harry raises an eyebrow and pecks the tip of Louis' nose. "One day I will have a tattoo for you. Bigger and better than this one."

Louis crosses his legs and dumps his shoes in a pile on the ground when Harry goes behind a tiled barrier to turn on the shower. The wall was miniature and stopped at his chest so Louis could still communicate with the man over it. 

"I don't want you to get a tattoo for me." Louis plays with his own fingers and traces the plain, frail skin that's inkless and virgin. 

"And why not?" Harry rubs shampoo into his hair and Louis feels the heat from his shower's steam mist over his bare skin.

"Tattoos are weird." Louis pouts to himself and hears a buzz to his left. "Your phone is ringing."

"Who is it?" Harry has his eyes closed and is washing off the shampoo to run a bar of musky soap over his skin. 

Louis picks up the vibrating device carefully from the side pouch of the gym bag beside him. He lights up from within when he recognises the caller identification. "It's um- It's Edward."

Harry washes the soap out of his eyes with water and blinking away its foam. "Answer, kitten."

Louis' index finger swipes across the screen, both hands cradling the gigantic device. He holds it up to his ear and speaks quietly. "Hello?"

Edward's voice filters through the connection as extra gravely and a little amused even. "I swear this voice I hear is too sweet to be my brother's."

"That's mean!" Louis proclaims with an audible giggle. 

"Well you laughed, baby." Edward chuckled and sat down in his vast leather chair, an arm clutching a bloody cloth perched on his bent knee. "Where is my brother?"

"Showering." Louis answers genuinely, ignorant and innocent of the fact that now he raises even more questions.

Edward grows uneasy due to Louis' odd response. "Why is he showering now, princess?"

"Harry had rugby practice." The boy stretches out his legs in front of him, too short to reach the lockers even when he points his toes. "He plays wonderfully."

"Yes, he does." Edward chips away at the wood of his desk with his new favourite blade. "Ask him to call me when he's done, alright?"

"Okay." Louis hears the tap turn off at that moment. "He's done."

"Fine, baby. I'll talk to him now." Edward can't help his chortle at Louis' painstaking innocence. 

Harry comes around the barrier fifteen minutes before the period is due to end, in a large towel around his waist and his hair shaggy with water rolling down his back. Toned and muscular, marred by artistic black ink, the sight was a blessed vision to any set of eyes that witnessed it.

"Edward wants to talk to you." Louis held up the massive sleek object to Harry when the latter was close enough to him.

Harry saw the tiniest of twinkles in Louis' eye, the one that was only given a chance to be nurtured when he interacted with the eldest Styles brother. It made him both flustered and aggravated, a feat of grand deprivation as he knew it to be. 

"Thank you, kitten." He pulls on a shirt that immediately gains patches of darker brown because of his wet skin, and briefs under his compromising skinny jeans.

Louis gets the opportunity to lean on Harry's side greatly when they're both sat on the bench, his legs inadvertently draped across the man's lap. He rests his head on Harry's shoulder for a brief moment of inner silence. Harry holds his ankles and when Louis mischievously shifted them, they were always recaptured.

"Yeah?" Harry answered the call from his sibling curtly. "No. Of course I haven't.......Tonight?....No? Then how much time do I have?......Fine. Yeah. Bye."

When Harry cuts the call, angry enough to fling his expensive phone at a solid brick wall, Louis is there to ask him what's wrong. He manages to just about dump the iPhone into his gym bag and scoop Louis up onto his lap, brush the boy's arched back with his split knuckles and kiss his temple.

"Everything okay?" Louis, being a humble fan of spontaneous cuddling, easily wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and kissed his cheek for solace. 

"Yeah." Harry sighs and rubs his face with his calloused palms. "How much time do we have left?"

"Ten minutes." Louis mumbles, his eyes closing when Harry keeps his lips pressed to the boy's temple. 

Harry clears his throat and Louis decides it's an excellent time to lie on his back. He pulls away from his brooding companion to lay across the bench, his head cradled by Harry's gym bag. He folds his hands over his tummy and stares at the ceiling, wondering about all the stories it would tell if it could.

"Hey, pretty boy." Harry squeezes the arch of Louis' foot to get his attention. "What's going on in your head?"

Louis giggles and the sound is so musical that it travels through the empty shower house as painless echoes. He wrung his fingers together and continued to observe the cracks, chips and peels of the ceiling paint. It had to be so high up that everyone thought its renovations to be irrelevant.

"I'm-" Louis stops himself for a moment but _something_ impulsive shoves on. "I'm a little hungry."

Harry feels like he's the man sitting atop the world when Louis confesses this to him. Confiding in him might just be what made Harry's day much less of a burden. Louis' never once admitted to his hunger and even when he ate, it was to mirror the habits of a bird. Harry is _thrilled_ at knowing that some part of this beautiful creature is healing.

"We ought to take care of that right away then." Harry gets to his feet a little clumsily as his back has begun to quiver in the region of where his weakest spot was, all the _painkillers_ prescribed to him beginning to wear off.

"Okay." Louis chirps, pulling on his shoes before standing up. 

Harry steals a moment of his time to shove his gym bag into the locker that's assigned to him. He unzips the tiny pouch with the door splayed open so it barricades him and a shuffling Louis. With deft fingers and practised skill, Harry is able to grab a bright purple pill to pop in his mouth. 

The drug starts to settle. He isn't meant to take it more than is required, at the moments when his pain is utterly unbearable. Harry's been taking it from a friend of Edward who knows his pills better the names of his friends. Its dissolving process begins with the faintest sizzle on his tongue before a spark ignites and carries throughout the blood streaming in his body.

He slams the door to his locker shut and offers Louis his most charming smile. "Ready to go?"

  
* * * * *  


Edward takes the silk black case from Eric when it comes and the rest of his cash since there was extra. He unclips the latch to personally secure the quality of the handcuffs. It's sparkling sterling silver with a spotless chain linking the two cuffs, one of which is lined with smooth rubber so the sharp edge doesn't harm his Louis.

"Thanks." Edward dismisses Eric with a curt nod of his head before retiring to his desk again. 

He sets the case and brand new possession into his safe, alongside the new gift he acquired just for Louis. It was still far too early to grant it to the boy so it will stay there until the perfect time dawns.

Somewhere on his desk his phone buzzes. He finds it in the place where he left it after calling Harry and the caller identification alerts him that it's one of his men that's been put on Louis' detail. Three men followed Louis everywhere to ensure his safety yet the boy had no idea.

"What?" He puts the call on speaker phone and checks the ammunition remaining in his Browning. 

"They're uh- leaving school, Boss." The one who sounds like Alfred says to him. "Just left actually."

"Why?" Edward frowns when he reads the time off his watch and cocks his gun. "Their day isn't over yet."

"Don't know, Boss."

With a frustrated sigh, Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and made a decision. "Watch them. If they're gone for more than an hour then make sure to bring them back."

"Yes, Boss."

  
* * * * *  


There's a diner not too far off the property of their school that Louis' terrified of visiting. It happens to be the middle of the school day when Harry decides to ditch classes for a meal at the aforementioned establishment. Louis has managed to convince him to just order the food and leave.

"What would you like, kitten?" Harry casually draped his arm around Louis' shoulders to keep him intimately close. He's chewing a strip of mint bubblegum and extracting his wallet from a back pocket. 

"Uh- um. Sandwich?" Louis is too occupied with looking around at all the faces that could possibly get them into trouble for bunking school. 

Harry chuckles and flips the laminated menu over to view the sandwich options. "Chicken?" 

"Yes please." Louis anchors himself to Harry by linking their fingers together where it rested on his shoulder, nervous enough to need the man's protection. 

Harry hurriedly recites their order of to-go sandwiches and a turkey wrap for himself. Louis gets a pomegranate juice and Harry orders himself a tall cup of filtered black coffee. The aroma of caffeine fills Louis' senses and he relaxes a bit due to how pleasant a scent it is.

"Don't worry yourself, baby." Harry rubs Louis' side where his hand was tucked into the space between arm and hip. He grinned when he pecked the boy's temple. "I'll protect you always."

Louis hummed and fidgeted with the hem of Harry's shirt sleeve. "You're going to be in _so much_ trouble."

"Oh yeah?" Harry chuckles and accepts the order in exchange for handing over his cash. "Just me?"

"Yeah." Louis takes his sandwich out of the brown paper bag and sinks his teeth into it for a decent bite. The taste and promise of food eases the rumbles of his tummy. "I'm a good boy."

Harry's smiled was pressed to Louis' forehead when he reeled the distracted other in for a brief embrace. He's laughing a little when Louis half-heartedly hugs him back or rolls his eyes from all the physical contact.

"Yes you are, kitten." He murmurs lowly into the shell of Louis' ear, a curl about his lip that's a smirk and smile.

Louis' heart only stops beating at an unhealthy pace when they're back on school grounds with no authority having caught them. Harry holds his hand as they hop the shortest fence behind the abandoned rugby field. He trips on a wire edge and stumbles with a loud squeak that's cut off by Harry catching him around his middle.

Harry laughs unabashedly and unafraid, his voice echoing through empty air. He steadies his lovely companion with mirth and adoration coupled with something unknown in his mysterious green eyes. His fingers are fanned out across Louis' hips, unforgiving restraints that the boy forgets to fight when he's pulling his hidden face free of Harry's shoulder.

Wide and frightened blue eyes were peering up into Harry's easily soothing foresty orbs. Bruised and scabbed knuckles come up to brush Louis' fringe out of his eyes and caress his perfect cheekbone. Harry leans in to peck the cold tip of Louis' nose, ending with a simultaneous smirk.

"Hi." Louis has the brightest smile that he disarms Harry's charm with.

Harry's arms get tighter and he replaced his kiss with another. "So precious."

  
* * * * *  


Edward's phone rang for the second time in ten minutes. He curses at the buzzing device and wipes his hands clean haphazardly on his jeans before answering. Blood is smeared across the glass screen and in four tall fingers on the back when he holds it to his ear.

"Talk to me-" He answers in a clipped, hurried tone. "-and make it fuckin' quick."

"They're back at school, Boss." His employed man in charge of Louis' security detail informs him. "Doesn't look like they'll be leaving again."

"Good. Keep an eye on them." Edward sniffs and turns away from the gory scene that is of his own making. "Anything else?"

"No."

Edward hangs up.

  
* * * * *  


Harry and Louis eat their impromptu lunch in the middle of the rugby field in plain sight of everyone that could report them. Louis sits on Harry's jacket with his shoes kicked aside and his legs crossed. He's like Harry's personal sun, full of life and giggles that's radiating enough energy to fuel the sun.

"I will admit I once had a banana obsession." Harry bends his knees in the air, parting them where they were elevated. He stared up at the sun sometimes and at other times just let it soak into his skin. 

"What kind of banana obsession?" Louis wraps up the other half of his sandwich and sips from his juice, pouting when it's all finished. 

"Ate them with everything." Harry cracks his stiff knuckles and scratches at the itchy scabs on his papery skin. "Waffles, cereal, even bread once."

Louis rounds his strawberry pink lips into a perfect circle and laughs hopelessly at such a confession. "Really?"

"Oh yeah." Harry nods a little reluctantly, something absolutely dazzling about his dimpled grin and peeking canine. "It's still quite the embarrassment."

"No, it isn't." Louis reassures him with a kind smile and soft eyes. "I like raspberries."

Harry extends his arm and Louis takes his hand for the fun of it, the air whipped out of his lungs when he's yanked forward. He falls forward and nearly shrieks from such a sudden impact. Harry let's him catch his breath before dragging the boy onto his lap less than graciously, arms banded around Louis' slender hips. 

"Hmph." Louis huffs when he's prodding at and pinching Harry's arms. He wants to be freed a little but supposes putting up with this type of posssessiveness shouldn't be so troubling. 

"So I hear-" Harry trails his finger down Louis' throat, his nail grazing the boy's thumping pulse. "-you're fond of even these raspberries?"

To follow up his question with a demonstration, Harry buries his face in Louis' neck and exhales so abruptly that it tickles the boy's skin. Louis squirms and his laughter fills the air hanging above their heads. His fingers are latched onto Harry's curls and he tugs to free himself, eyes watering with his giggles and trying to roll away.

Harry just expands his area of attack and grips Louis' fleshy hip tighter, squeezing and teasing. He wraps his arms around the boy to smother him with these audible kisses and leaves red bruises where he delivered them. 

"Stop!" Louis squeals, his expression morphing into glee and pure relaxation. "It tickles! H, stop!"

"I thought you liked raspberries, kitten. Was that a lie?" Harry scratched Louis' tummy with no strength and worsened his playful torture such that Louis succeeded in rolling off his lap. "Oh no, kitten. You're not going anywhere."

He snakes his arms more roughly than he means to around Louis' waist and pulls him back even when Louis resists. There was far too grand a fear present in Harry's nagging subconscious that any amount of distance could tear them apart. The doubts and concerns were only worsened tragically by his heightened drugged stated.

Harry crossed his arms over Louis' front and tucked the boy in under his chin, their legs entangled as Louis pouts. Harry kisses away such a petulant state and nips at Louis' lower lip.

"So, baby-" Harry rocks them a bit and Louis struggles to find a balance. "-how-"

"I'm not comfortable yet." Louis complains whilst righting himself, frowning while he tries to rectify it all. 

"Relax." Harry's lips find Louis' neck where he subdues the boy with kisses. "Better now, baby?"

"No." Louis wriggles and gets himself parted from Harry's heavy, bulking arms. "I'm better now."

A frown of Herculean proportions dawns on Harry that's indicative of disappointment and anger. He let's his hands drop to his sides, hitting the ground in an impact that's tedious and sends blistering pain up his already damaged nerves.

"You're happier away from me?" He questions, utterly serious and convincing in his plight.

Louis' face crumbles like his chest constricts and he hugs his folded knees to his chest. "No! I just-"

Harry hasn't got the faintest touch of Louis left to himself. He keeps frowning until the awful emotion is all his expression has etched into itself. The stormy distaste and desires of his feelings spread across his face, amplified tenfold by the drugs lacing his blood. Louis has gotten back onto the grass, indirectly discarded so Harry could focus on his pointless frustration. 

"You'd just-" Harry rubs his temples and screws his eyes shut, letting the intoxicant run raving mad in his system. "You'd rather be _away_ from me than _with_ me."

Caught like a deer in headlights, Louis frantically searches the crevices of his own mind for an escape. "No, Harry. I-I just- I wanted room to-"

"To breathe, right?" Harry snaps, more vicious than he intended. He's glaring at Louis the way a predator does when he figures out that their prey isn't so obedient. "To just be away from me so you can _breathe_."

"No!" Louis discards Harry's accusations with a fierce defense and tries scrambling to his feet, only for his unpleasant companion to pull him back down. " _Ow_ , Harry!"

Louis had landed on his bottom on the unforgiving hard ground, an unflattering groan coming from his chapped lips. He feels the pain travel as shivers up his spine to bring stinging sensations to the corners of his eyes. His bandaged toe begins to ache as it hasn't for a day now, and Louis whimpers.

"You're going to stay with me right here, kitten, until you can learn to relax around me." Harry keeps his grip tight and unrelenting. "You've got to trust me, baby."

Louis can't find an ounce of trust for Harry when he's being like this, as maddening and disruptive as he is only when rattled. His otherwise bright and curious blue eyes have been since ruined by Harry's mood swing. It was both astounding and terrifying to witness for the second time, how man is ruined by passion.

"Yeah?" Harry presses, bringing Louis' hand up to his lips to mark each fingertip with a kiss. Molten green looked into the cerulean blue that studied it, desire evident. "How much do you trust me?"

Louis flinched when Harry reached the inside of his wrist, those plump cherry lips feeling like they're dripping blood. The harm they could cause frightened Louis. No inanimate object can do harm like a fully grown man with strength like Harry's. 

"Do you trust me now?" Harry asks when he's on Louis' inner forearm, leaving a trail of warm and slightly damp kisses. 

It takes Louis some moments of thought and mental absence to discern whether or not he's ready to answer that question. It's all Harry needs, that silence, to decide that he's ready to up his game. He passes time in less than a second bringing his face closer to Louis' neck, before sliding into that perfectly warm space.

Louis jerks away.

He was afraid of what Harry's capable of. That instinct to ensure his self preservation had led him to doubting Harry's intentions. Although now, staring into those affronted green eyes that are slowly melding into pain and confusion, he thinks Harry wouldn't risk causing him harm.

"What the Hell, kitten?!" Harry barks and Louis retracts his faith in the man, eager to stand and get as far away as possible. "Louis!"

Louis is ignoring him and withstanding the smarting agony in his foot for pulling on his shoes hastily. Harry gets up and at that moment Louis backs away so there's time and distance between them. He stares panicked into Harry's eyes and mirrors the man's motion forward by stepping back.

"My brother gets to touch you but I can't?!" Harry shouts and rakes both his hands through his hair. "He can have you all he wants but I can't? What the fuck makes him more worthy than I am?"

"N-Nothing. I just-" Louis can't comprehend where all this rage was coming from. He stuttered for words to save himself while Harry reached for him in one vicious swipe.

Stumbling but not falling, Louis hugs his middle so his arms are occupied and turns away when Harry tries to grab onto him. He's more afraid of what Harry wants to do with him when he's caught him, and the fear that's unyielding in his gaze portrays that in powerful porcelain orbs.

"I know you let him touch you this morning." Harry spoke through gritted teeth executed another failed nab at Louis. "Louis!"

Louis answers by sniffling and trying not to let the unrelenting stinging at the corners of his tired eyes. He doesn't want Harry to catch him for the sake of assuring his safety. Harry's not himself when he's this angry, just as Louis has seen him before once. 

"Don't." Louis pleaded when Harry caught his elbow in a cruel grasp that _hurt_. "Harry, don't. You're hurting me-"

"Hush." Harry didn't stop reeling Louis until the boy was secured under the brutal weight of his arms, their faces inches apart. "Don't be afraid, kitten. I can see that you are."

Louis swallows nervously and tilts his head back so that he can predict all of Harry's abrupt movements. Those deep green eyes on the prowl are too close to his yet further away at the same time. He let his lips fall open and they quivered in a way that attracted Harry's attention.

"Oh kitten." Harry's hand comes up to cup Louis' cheek, a sweet and disarming smile on his features. 

"You're h-hurting me." Louis whispers with much less power behind his breathy words.

What little harmlessness resided in Harry's features melts into a tempest of regal standards. His hands get tighter on Louis' arm and slide down to the base of his neck, thumb digging into the boy's rabbiting pulse. 

"Do you think I mean to?" Harry asks him, quiet but not without warning in his raspy tone. 

Louis bites his lip and memorises the terror lacing the green of Harry's eyes, a shade that's his signature like those charming dimples of his. He means to shake his head but Harry doesn't wait that long and he almost cuts off Louis' air supply with how demanding the grasp around the boy's throat becomes. A necklace that conceals Edward's cross chain and turns Louis' lovely skin a little flushed, goosebumps rising with anxiety.

There have been times in Louis' life when he closed his eyes to a scary situation and resolved it only by letting it happen. This time, he sucked in a sharp breath and let his insides knot themselves up into something prone to destruction. He feels Harry's hand around his neck and warm breath over his lips, the only sensations his senses can detect. 

"Louis!" 

Someone else screaming for him drags him kicking and screaming back to the real world where his eyes open to a foresty fury. His head snaps in that direction which is behind him and Harry's hand falls from his clavicle, his infuriated attention also drawn to the intruder.

It happens to be Marcel who is many meters away at the edge of the field, shielding his eyes from the sun and seeking Louis. His figure is easily recognisable by the way he resembles Louis' current companion yet at the same time appearing so different, so gentle in the curl of his fists and concern of his gaze.

Harry's known his younger brother to always be the one on his side. He paused to examine the ache in his lower back and hadn't predicted that Louis would _run_.

One second he's reaching back to investigate the inflammation of his spine and in the next heartbeat, Louis is gone. Harry curses when he misses a chance to grab him, draw him back so Marcel doesn't actually represent a rival at this time. However, Louis is running with a kick-start as fast as his legs will carry him.

Harry doesn't allow a moment to pass before he's on the boy's trail. He pursues him relentlessly with keeping Louis' frantic figure in his vision. His legs are far more equipped for running on sudden impulse and the stamina he's developed over the years prevents him tiring out. Despite all these feats, Louis minute head start has him maintaining a foot between them at all times.

Louis sprints across the field as speedily as he can, and doesn't once glance over his shoulder even when the heavy footsteps become too near behind him.

Marcel becomes a clearer and closer image the more he keeps up his urgent pace, a flood of emotions from guilt to fear icing the blood in his veins. It's easy enough when he reaches the edge of the lush field to be taken up by the youngest triplet's arm, and spun around in quick succession so Marcel is now between him and Harry.

"Get out-"

"Back off." Marcel shoves Harry in the opposite direction by his fist against his brother's torso, knocking the wind out of him. 

His one hand is outstretched behind him and Louis clasps it between both of his, grounded by something new. Harry is breathing heavy and hard by the way he looks at Louis over Marcel's shoulder, intense emerald scalding the ungrazed skin of Louis' neck. It burns with no contact. Louis bows his head so he doesn't have to look Harry in the eye, experience the sheer _rejection_ of a dominant personality. 

"Go cool off, H." Marcel tells him with a tone of voice that's enough to bring Harry's attention back to him. Their eyes meet and it becomes evident what Marcel means. "That's enough for today. Get this out of your system or you won't be seeing Louis for the rest of the fuckin' week. Go _now_."

Louis didn't notice that Harry had been gripping Marcel's wrist with as much force so as to cut off blood flow on anyone. Harry looked at him and something unreadable fleetingly passed through his vision before withering to a demise. He pushes Marcel's hand away and walks away silently.

  
* * * * *  


"Boss?"

"What?" Edward snaps at the man calling him for yet another ceremony of information. 

He's eager to know all that happens to his lovely yet absent princess but at the same time, not being paid on time by fools who claim they can, pisses him off. The chair he always has bolted to the ground in front of his desk where he meets all his debtors has been dripping blood from various points all morning and yet he hasn't collected any cash. 

"Something went down between Harry and ya boy, Boss." His informant is a little slippery with his words. 

"Spit your fuckin' gum out." Edward snarls. "Tell me what happened."

"Too far away, Boss." Comes a clearer voice. "One minute they're cosy and the next your boy is running from him. He's fine though."

"Where's Harry now?" Edward asks, wiping his blade on the sleeve of his shirt. 

"Got in his car and drove off."

"And Louis?" 

"Gone back in the buildin'. M's with him."

Edward rights the angle of his Rollex and reads off the time. "Good job. Call me one more fuckin' time with gum in your mouth and you're fired."

  
* * * * *  


Marcel got Louis into the school's admission building that's usually void of any students during the day, before he's being tugged without relent. He pauses in his stride towards a more private space but Louis' so shaken up that he has to stop, has to bend a little and wipe away those damp streaks from his cold cheeks.

"Hey, babydoll." Marcel kisses Louis' extra soft lips and tastes salt on them, embracing him protectively. 

Louis' arms lock around his waist and tighten as much as they can, his face buried in Marcel's welcoming touch. He's still shivering and his breaths are ragged, his legs feeling like jelly and heart no better. Marcel cradles the back of his head with one hand and falls back against the more expensive lockers lining the walls.

"It's all better now, Lou." Marcel promises him with a smooth humility about his words, and briefly picks Louis' legs up as he slides to the ground. "He was just....having a bad day, baby. Don't be afraid of him."

Louis finds that hard to believe. He wipes his eyes and tip of his nose furiously, also folding his legs so they're between Marcel's. Sitting here like two broken and unidentifiable souls lost to the world but not themselves, there's something irrevocably disheartening about their minds.

"C-Can we-we just-"

"Shh." Marcel let's his head fall back and for Louis' chin to sit on his shoulder, face hidden in his neck. "We can sit here for as long as you want, babydoll."

Grateful, Louis let's his faintest tears dampen Marcel's shirt. He's got his finger crooked over the neckline already, all four other appendages just coming down from his height in nerves. Marcel rubs his back without threatening any boundaries and sometimes just runs his knuckle along the boy's spine.

"Did he hurt you anywhere?" Marcel asks him, afraid to hear the answer. 

"N-No." Louis reaches up to encircle Marcel's neck and gets a kiss on his arm from the latter. "Thank you."

"For what, baby?" Marcel presses his lips to Louis' forehead for a long moment. "For saving you? I will be there, just as we all will be, to protect you."

  
* * * * *  


Marcel brings Louis home after their school day has concluded. Harry hasn't shown himself since their tragic encounter at the rugby field and Louis doesn't know whether it's upsetting or reassuring to him. He just hasn't released Marcel's hand since they got up from the administration office floor. 

The mansion is empty or at the very least, dead silent. Marcel is carrying his own bag as well as Louis', leading the boy into the living room for something to eat. 

"How about a snack, babydoll?" Marcel drops their bags onto a chair by the dining room table. "Anything you like."

Louis thinks about it for a tiny moment while chewing the nail of his thumb, shedding his jacket and fingering Edward's cross necklace. He doesn't feel like eating, more like his appetite has become deceased and rotten. "I'm fine."

Marcel nods and goes into the kitchen for a bottle of water. He let's Louis venture into the lounge at a lazy pace, feet shuffling without shoes towards the comfiest couch. Feeling very much like a stalker whose acquired his most beautiful subject, Marcel watches Louis peel off his socks and climb onto the couch. 

He's so precious when he folds his legs under himself and wraps himself up in the quilt that's always discarded across the various sofas. The heavy blanket is long enough to hide Louis beneath it, his head propped up in his hand. Marcel joins him after two minutes of silence between them.

"What would you like to watch?" Marcel sits and kicks off his shoes as well, resting his feet on the coffee table. 

Louis let's some of the comfortable covers be stolen so they can cover Marcel's legs also. His feet end up on the man's lap and he sighs whilst sinking into the cushions. "Anything."

"Hey now, gorgeous." Marcel sets his bottle down and sneaks his hand under Louis' covers to draw him out of his shell. "Are you still upset?"

Louis shakes his head but it's a lie and he tries to hide more of his face behind the quilt he's clutching tightly. He tries _very hard_ not to giggle when his ribs are tickled and Marcel coaxes him towards letting lose. His feet kick out under the influence of a reflex and he can't free himself long enough.

"There's no need to be upset still, babydoll." Marcel crawls over to Louis and manages to stop the latter from hiding behind his quilt. "Come on, baby. Give us a smile."

Louis resists for as long as he can allow himself, arching his back to escape the evasive and persuasive ministrations of Marcel. He puts his hands on Marcel's shoulders to ground himself but that's the leverage needed by the former to attack Louis with kisses. All over his face and hands, Marcel tries with all his might to lighten Louis' mood.

"Don't try and resist it, baby." Marcel growls playfully into Louis' neck and prevents him from hiding. "Is that a smile? Can I see it, babydoll?"

He's lit up from the inside when Marcel's tickles render him helpless against the offences against him. Marcel releases him from beneath the quilt covers and settles into a warm spot beside the boy, sighing as he became more comfortable. 

"Marcel?" Louis spoke with his visage masked by the crook of Marcel's shoulder. 

"Yeah, baby?" He replied, thumbing mindlessly over Louis' thigh. 

"My toe hurts again."


	17. SEVENTEEN.

**_[A/N: I am hoping this chapter is enough to tide you guys over for...certain 'aspects'. Haha. Ha. - S xx]_ **

Louis had showered and sat on Edward's bed in a shirt that overflows on him, finishing his excess homework with no pants on. He was extremely comfortable after taking a shower and using his new citrus body gel, his hair freshly shampooed and dried. The bandage was replaced for a new one and he was trying to cross his toes after the homework was over and there was nothing to occupy himself.

Edward's room was deep and dark, a sinister kind of warm that comforted Louis more anything else. He had the softest bed and Louis could roll around in his silk sheets, never once resenting such luxury. The curtains had been closed over the navy threads of the evening and the moon was dazzling pale in the sky.

Marcel had given Louis one of Edward's discarded iPhones for use when he needed them. There were only three numbers stored in it and the memory card was wiped clean, so Louis saved Niall and Liam's number on it before exploring the device. He laid down on his front and crossed his ankles in the air, one of the black sheets draped over his back.

He uses the Styles' internet connection to download a few games and one social network to keep in contact with his friends. The iPhone was much too big for his one hand and had to be held in both so that it was steady. Its golden case was sleek and elegant like the bright keypad. 

Louis tests the camera quality by snapping a photo of the pitch black sheet crossed with crimson red under him. He loves the exceptional quality and takes a few more random candid photos before leaving the phone to charge. 

At a minute or two to seven, he's disturbed by the bedroom door opening. Louis had been rifling through his clothes in the closet in search for something to wear when Edward takes him out later, and woke up from the floor when his name was called.

"Louis?" Edward's voice carried through the room and reached Louis' ears as a husky whisper. 

He pulled his shirt down to its ordinary mid-thigh length before shuffling into the adjacent room, passing the mirror glass closet doors. Standing at the door, Edward was dropping his keys onto the small desk and locking his phone when Louis entered his line of vision. 

Edward hadn't cared to remove his soiled shirt that's crusty and sticking to his skin with blood. He was still in his fancy silk shirt that's black and transparent with embroidered roses down the front. His bare and tattooed skin was on display for Louis to see as streaked with blood, and his shirt utterly ruined.

"Princess." Edward flipped on the lights to its dimmest state and whistled a catcall for his boyfriend to come closer. 

Louis was an exotic vision in his borrowed T-shirt of Edward's that's plain white with a little Latin logo on the breast pocket. He smiled shyly with heated cheeks and let Edward take his hand. Edward was grinning with both dimples and a devious glint in his dark eyes that's all for Louis.

"Nah uh." Louis batted Edward's hands away from his waist and backed away with a mischievous smirk. "You're dirty."

"Am I?" Edward quirked an eyebrow at his beautiful boyfriend and didn't hesitate to start unbuttoning his shirt.

Louis' marble blue eyes follow Edward's deft fingers as they fluidly undo each tab on his spoiled shirt. He blushes harder and feels the heat crawling up his neck to his bright red cheeks, diverting his gaze to everywhere else. Edward drops the shirt to the ground and the dull lighting illuminates the perfectly sculpted muscle of his abdomen.

"How about now, sweetlips?" Edward knew the effect his partial nudity had on Louis and he was also no stranger to how _influenced_ he was by Louis' bare thighs.

"I- uh-" Louis stutters and squeaks when Edward roughly yanks on his arm to bring him closer. Their chests collide and Louis' head is tilted back so that their faces are a hair's breath apart. "Hi."

Edward chuckles in a low and gravely monotone. He wraps his arms all the way around Louis' waist so they're caging the boy's slim hips, their bodies aligned. "Hello there, baby boy."

Louis relaxes against Edward's body and touch on him, arms coming up to lock around the man's neck. He threads his fingers through Edward's soft curls, getting up on his tiptoes so Edward doesn't have to bend so far. "Are we going out tonight?"

"Oh yes." Edward hums and captures Louis' hips suddenly to sweep him off his feet. He smothers the boy's giggles by connecting their lips, carrying Louis over to his bed. "I bought you something to wear. Will you put it on for me?"

"Okay." Louis acquiesces without second thought or doubt. He does fall into a fit of laughter when Edward climbs onto the bed and drops him onto the mattress first. "What did you get me?"

"Well-" Edward nips at Louis' fingertips when they come up to inspect his dimples. "-a little black dress."

Louis' expression fills with mirth and he hooks his legs over Edward's hips to bring him lower. "Tell the truth, Daddy."

"Of course, baby." Edward takes Louis' hands off his shoulders and pins them to either side of his head. "I bought you a pair of handcuffs so you'll never have to leave my side and some clothing choices I'd _really_ like to see you in."

So effortlessly has Louis' personal space become one that's adjoined to Edward's and they exist together in one bubble. He chews his bottom lip in thought and imagines himself in all the possible outfits Edward picked out for him. It could be anything and Louis knows that. He's very open to exploration when it comes to Edward.

"We have an hour before we have to leave, princess." Edward presses a swift kiss to Louis' forehead and pulls away from the boy so he's standing at the foot of the bed. 

Louis props himself up on his elbows to gaze imperiously at Edward, the latter male existing as a look into the fantasy of every person. "Only an hour?"

"Yes." Edward winked down at his boy and started to move away, unbuckling his belt. 

Louis' eyes were downcast as he fidgeted with the hem of his T-shirt, smooth cotton on his nimble fingertips. He rolled over to watch Edward's back flex as he dropped his belt and popped the button on his jeans. "Daddy?"

"Hmm?" Edward hadn't turned around and Louis felt his cheeks flaming with his nervousness. 

He wanted to _ask_ and he knew he could trust something in Edward to not deny him. "Are you going to shower now?"

Edward turned on the en-suite bathroom light and was about to disappear behind the door. "I am."

"Can I-" Louis got Edward to stop and his shoulders to go rigid with just two jittery syllables. "Can I come with you?"

The air suspended time with it as it hung limply about their heads. Louis felt like a lovesick fool who demanded so much from one man but Edward was entirely honoured to be the recipient of Louis' affections. The night grew older, darker as the words Louis spoke became more haunted until it seemed like he hadn't said them at all.

"Neverm-"

"I'd love that, princess." Edward sees an opportunity for Louis to retract his enquiry and crushes it. He won't have such rejection ever. "Come here, baby."

Louis slowly pulls himself closer to the edge of the bed and swings his legs over the ledge. He gingerly gets to up from the mattress by using his arms to hoist himself up. The carpet under his bare feet felt extra soft for some reason and he can't look anymore but at the floor whilst shuffling nervously towards his boyfriend. 

Edward's hand suddenly settles on Louis' lower back and nudges him all the more close so that they're chest-to-chest. Louis makes a peep that he'll never admit to and his chest heaves with his rapid breathing, bravely tilting his head back so that they're looking at each other in silence.

Arms close around Louis' middle so that Louis' restricted to the space Edward grants him. He holds onto the man's biceps so that he's anchored to something, his T-shirt becoming as stained and ruined as Edward's bare chest. Louis' smile deepens and broadens into a muffled giggle when Edward tries to kiss his forehead and lands on his eyebrow. 

"Can I take this off, princess?" Edward pinches the fabric of Louis' T-shirt where it sat over his thigh.

Louis nods cautiously and gets another kiss on his cheek for his courage. He steps back when Edward holds him at arm's length, blue flame connecting with green gems. Neither burns and neither is extinguished. It's just an extravagant display of the most beautiful colours combining. 

"Arms up, baby." Edward instructs, pulling off the rings from his fingers one at a time.

Louis raises his arms above his head and awaits further notice. Time ticks on for two heartbeats before Edward clasps the hem of his own T-shirt on Louis' body and drags it off the boy's frame in one fluid motion. The article of clothing is flung to the side and before Louis can cover himself with his arms, Edward catches his wrists.

"Let's make it a rule." Edward drops his jeans and steps out of them in his Calvin Klein's. He sets Louis' palms on his chest instead of letting them hide such a precious body. "You aren't allowed to hide yourself with me, sweetlips. Never."

Uncertain of what his response should be, Louis nods and goes for burying his face in Edward's neck. He felt no more comfortable doing this with any of the other brothers but also knew that he'd eventually get there. Edward awards him a kiss on his earlobe before hauling Louis into his arms, feet off the ground so his thighs are hiked over his hips.

"Bath or shower, princess?" Edward strode into the bathroom and studied both options.

Louis extricates his blocked visage and sets his elbows on Edward's shoulders. "Bath?"

Edward is too fond of this boy for him to not feel like he's being blessed each time Louis looked his way. He carried Louis over effortlessly to the claw foot bathtub and set him down on the countertop. Louis was content with crossing his legs on the cold tiles while Edward turned on the tub's tap for water to start filling.

"Edward?" Louis found a few bottles lined against the wall and picked his favourite one. 

"Hmm?" The man tested the temperature of the bath he was drawing before stepping back to gather two towels from a cabinet under Louis. 

He didn't get a verbal response and upon looking up from his position on his knees, found Louis holding out a bottle of bubble bath. It was a pastel purple and bubblegum scented, a much too delicate essence for himself but _perfect_ for Louis. He chuckled before standing to his intimidating height and accepting the offering.

Edward poured enough of the bubble bath directly into the stream of water so it began to foam up immediately, puffy white suds floating about the surface of the crisp water. He rejoined Louis by standing beside him, leaned against the bathroom counter, with his arms crossed.

"We may have to pack a bag." He tells Louis without turning back, unable to restrain his laughter when two arms are draped across his shoulders. Louis' chin is on his right shoulder when Edward angles his head correctly, meeting those blazing blue eyes. 

"Why?" Louis' forehead rests against Edward's, his bicep caught by a larger hand of a stronger grip. 

"It's Saturday tomorrow." Edward whispers into their tiny atmosphere that's starting to fill up with the smell of bubblegum. "We might have to stay over."

"Okay." Louis is quick to agree. He knows in every facet of his heart and mind, he can trust Edward. "Where are we going?"

Edward sniffs and turns his face into Louis' neck where its warm and feels safest. "A night establishment frequented by most of my colleagues."

"Oh." Louis' fingers trail across the planes of Edward's chest. "Is it scary?"

"Terrifying." Edward nips at Louis' pulse. "But I'll be right there to protect you."

When the bathtub has completed its process of filling up to the brim with steaming but ideal water, each inch hidden under a layer of thick scented bubbles, Edward helps Louis hop down from the counter. He doesn't push his boundaries with removing Louis' underwear and so merely turns around so the boy can do it himself.

Upon stripping himself of his own boxer briefs and dumping it in the hamper, Edward looks over his shoulder and finds Louis chewing his lip extensively until it bled, bare from the chestnut streaks of his hair to his foot crossed over the other. Edward turns back towards him and offers Louis a small smile that's void of any temptation. Unlike any other sexual conquests, it wasn't about bare skin and fucking with Louis. 

Edward first calmed Louis down by letting his knuckles graze the boy's cheek, and swooping in for a gentle kiss. Louis melts into it instantly and all his anxiety evaporates. 

"You are beautiful." Edward praises him. "Most breathtaking creature I've ever seen."

All over Louis was soft and delicate, a precious sight from head to toe. His skin was illuminated by the dim lights and his eyes were two porcelain powerhouses, gateways to the stormiest of seas. Edward longed to kiss that pudge on his tummy and encase himself in those perfect thighs. That will all have to wait. Louis takes Edward's hand when its offered, their fingers in a tangle, so that he can be led without struggle to the bathtub.

Edward turns off the tap above the tub and helps Louis into the water first, standing patiently while the boy sets one leg in at a time. He disappears from the knee down and looks at Edward expectantly before sitting. His companion waits for a beat before climbing in behind Louis, sitting back against the lip of the tub so that his boy could get on his lap.

Louis' eyes close on their accord when Edward's broad chest meets his back, muscular arms forming a steel band around him under the water. He sighs contentedly when Edward takes a moment to kiss the bone behind his ear. Knees bent between Edward's and breathing reliant on what the man did to him.

A body blackened by ink and scarred by physical tension held Louis so dear and close. Even the water that's in droplets or pressed between them could never disturb the intimacy of their moments together. The blood washed off Edward's skin, from slightly hunched shoulders to rippled abs, into the same water that Louis was in. There was no difference between them.

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asks in Louis' ear, low and a ragged voice that's dragging itself like sandpaper down Louis' spine. 

Louis watches the steam leaving their bath water and how he can't feel any of the heat, just that Edward is against him in the most open way. "You."

Edward's smile could be felt against the back of Louis' neck. "All good things, I hope."

Eyes crinkling with amusement, Louis nods and finds a weak spot in Edward's grip so he can link their hands together. "What are _you_ thinking about?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Edward chuckles softly and hardly allows Louis to sit up. "I'm always thinking about you, princess."

Louis hugs his knees between Edward's legs and the latter has such a view of Louis' arched spine. Each knob of the center column was easily visible against his pale skin, his ribcage appearing whenever he exhaled. Edward let his dripping wet hand trace the frightening sight down to the middle, setting water droplets on a race down Louis' back.

"That's dangerous." Louis lightly comments and Edward almost forgets about what he speaks. "What about when you're driving?"

Edward doesn't change his answer. He snickers and slips his hands under Louis' arms to pull him back. It's been a moment too long away from physical contact. "I think about how quickly I can reach my princess if I drive faster."

Louis doesn't just let Edward switch positions, but he also makes an effort to swap angles. This way he's facing Edward and perched on his lap with a little more some mischief in his eye. He scooped up some of the clean foam in both hands. 

"What about-" Louis dabs some of the excess foam onto Edward's chin and his eyes light up with how silly it looks. "-when you're eating?"

"All the same." Edward repays Louis' favour by painting a dollop of foam on the boy's nose. "I think about whether you've eaten or if you're happy."

"Happy?" Louis questions distractedly while he gathers more foam and lays it all over Edward's toned torso. 

"Yes." Edward sets his hands on Louis' fleshy, warm hips. He can feel the bone that _he knows_ is visible through Louis' pearl-like skin. "You ought to be happy at all times, princess."

Louis' cheeks got a little rosier and the feel of his plump behind cradled by Edward's hips were enough to make the latter's dreams a reality. Louis himself had ceased all play with the bubbles and sought to pick Edward's body gel off the rack behind his head.

"Have at me, baby." Edward surrenders by holding up his arms and proffering a cheeky smirk. 

It takes a little under ten minutes for Louis to drench the coarse sponge in soap and drag it across various points on Edward's body. He dared not venture below the man's belly button and gave up the privileges of his duty at that point. Edward had chuckled and let Louis cuddle into him instead of continuing.

"Tell me, baby-" Edward let's water run down Louis' back in an effort to wash off the soap. "-do you really want to come with me tonight?"

"Yes please." Louis is eager to respond and sits up on Edward's thighs to convince the man of how earnest he is. "I want to see your world too."

"That's alright then, baby. I just needed to make sure." Edward gave Louis a languid kiss and lightly explored the base of Louis' spine with his fingers. 

Louis took the shampoo bottle next and poured some into his hands. The scent of vanilla blasted his senses and Edward let the sponge float in favour of encircling Louis' waist. "Can I?"

"Go ahead, princess." Edward encouraged.

Louis first combed the thick gel through Edward's soft locks with crooked fingers before starting to lather. "You have to close your eyes, Daddy."

Edward scoffs and doesn't listen to Louis' instruction. He grips Louis' hips a little tighter but doesn't let his eyelids close. 

"Daddy." Louis frowns stubbornly and stops moving his fingers through Edward's hair. "You have to close your eyes."

At last, Edward relents and with a sigh, closes his eyes. He settles in against the tub and Louis starts to hum, an astounding recollection of musical sounds that Louis turns into magic. The petite boy with a glorious derriere is all Edward has come to want from the world and he revels in the beauty of Louis' body sat on him. 

Louis began focusing on the responsibility at hand. He watches the foam build up and eventually the colour changes, causing a frozen tension in his system. Right there, the white has turned _red_ and Louis' heart pounds in his chest as the maroon shade reminds him so vividly of none other than blood.

He starts up again with the calm circular motions when he convinces himself that seeing the blood isn't indicative of the harm that could come to him. He swallows his nerves and let's Edward's calloused palms on his lower back, dangerous close to the curve of his bum, be what grounds him to silence.

Louis pours water over Edward's shampooed hair and giggles animatedly when it gets in the man's eyes. He leans in with his lips and fingertips to help, the former attaching to Edward's unsuspecting lips. The man smirks into their kiss while Louis thumbs off the excess the soapy water from his boyfriend's eyes.

Edward follows Louis' lips with his own and maintains their kiss to the very end when neither can breathe. He licks into Louis' mouth and secures the boy by the back of his neck, tasting the friction of Louis' tongue against his own and the roof of his mouth. His boy was delectable down to the purest form of the form and Edward was going to get himself high on it.

"Daddy." Louis mumbles against Edward's mouth with a little whine, his lip bitten by Edward's teeth. 

He felt something ignite in the pit of his belly, a quiver in his abdomen muscles from how hard he clenches. Edward's hands squeeze Louis' waist and he _struggles_ with the need to not manhandle his boy as he pleases. Louis whimpers like something hurts and wraps his arms around Edward's neck, soapy and wrinkled skin resting against the firm exterior of his boyfriend.

"One day, baby." Edward's wet lips drag across Louis' cheek to his ear where he speaks in a frustratingly aroused growl. "One day, soon, I will have you in every way I desire."

With a mindless whimper, Louis' fingers tighten in Edward's hair so more water rolls down his wrists. His jaw falls open while Edward grabs onto his hips and rolls them by force. 

"Daddy." Louis pulls away and his fingers tap Edward's lips, his mouth slightly ajar and his own lips are swollen. "Daddy, we're gonna be late."

Edward pauses to laugh and plant a wet kiss on Louis' cheek. "My punctual baby. Alright, sweetlips, let's get out of here."

Edward doesn't actually allow Louis to step out of the tub alone. He pulls out the drain and wraps a towel around his hips first before bundling Louis up in one much fluffier and white. The boy is drowning in it but makes no further comment. Edward sweeps Louis off his feet to carry him like he weighed nothing into the bedroom and set him down on the carpet.

"This is yours." Edward gets an unmarked bag from the door and turns it over on the bed, letting clothes tumble out of its confines. "Wear anything you like, princess."

While Edward steals away into the closet to change, Louis carefully picks through the new clothing. They're all deep and dark colours which he appreciates and the purple - nearly black - shorts catch his eye first. He sets them aside after measuring their knee length and chooses a long-sleeved black shirt. The sleeves were transparent but a second layer of fabric was stitched onto the chest and back.

He dries himself off hastily before pulling a clean pair of underwear on over his legs, and examining his outfit for the evening. He gets the shorts on without a hassle - admiring Edward's ability to tell his size - and buttons the outstanding golden tab above the zip last. The shirt he selected fell over the front pockets of his shorts and covered majority of his hands. 

Edward reappeared from the depths of the walk-in closet donning new clothes and Louis is conflicted as to which form of physical state he prefers. Nude or concealed? For this moment when his eyes travel the stern and tower-like figure of his _boyfriend_ , Louis shoves those thoughts away.

Edward wore all black. He had a black T-shirt that clung to his biceps and the expanse of his chest, his skin and muscle structure causing the fabric to strain. His jeans weren't as tight as Harry's but they still formed a second layer of skin. The boots of his choice were as intimidating as the leather jacket he had across his forearm, heavy and purposeful.

Atop the dull attire, Edward wore three rings. One on his left hand and two on the right. His hair was a little shaggy and damp but its state was nothing controversial. He looked like the last person that would ever call themselves Louis' boyfriend.

Those fiercesome green eyes rose from the screen of his phone to Louis and his expression went from grim to smug. He sauntered over to Louis after tucking his phone away into a back pocket, framing his boy's left cheek and capturing his lips in a kiss. They've kissed so much that Louis has lost count and neither is he sure that he could go a few hours without doing it again.

"You look beautiful, Louis." Edward said to him after pulling away and dropping his hand down to connect with Louis'. 

A blush crept onto Louis' cheeks and his freckles became more prominent as he tried to mask it. "You- um- You look nice too."

Edward's smile grew and reached his eyes, conveying the light and warmth he always experienced around Louis. "It will be cold, baby. I need you to wear this jacket."

Louis' mouth screwed up into a pout when he noticed Edward's notion towards the heavy leather jacket. He hadn't argued when the man unzipped the front and draped it over his shoulders, a new weight on his back. It smelt like Edward though and that made it all the more comforting, the cotton lining inside the jacket carrying Edward's usual cologne scent.

"Is that okay, sweetlips?" Edward checks by studying Louis' eyes, the most expressive and vibrant part of his boy.

"It's heavy, Daddy." Louis wasn't complaining so much as stating facts. He had by now stuck his hands into the jacket's pockets and flipped the collar up so half his face was hidden.

Edward laughed and shook his head, bemused. Louis was positively swimming in that jacket. "It has to be, baby. It's bulletproof."

  
* * * * *  


Louis' not nearly done complaining about why their overnight bag has to be quite this heavy, when they reach the base of the grand staircase. Edward is carrying it for him but found Louis' persistent grumbling hopelessly endearing. 

"Wait here." Edward gave Louis' temple a quick peck. "Guard the loot while I bring the car around."

Giggling in short abandonment, Louis manages to chastely salute Edward's authority before being left in the foyer with the awful duffel bag. It looked to him, laying lifeless at his feet, like a dismembered body was stuffed into it. He crossed his ankles and really tempted the state of his balance before being shocked by a blast of volume to his right.

He turned towards the noise and found that it came from the television, the giant flatscreen hitched to a solid lever on the wall. Flashing images of a violent action movie has Louis involuntarily shuffling toward it, a worried frown burdening his light features. He steps up on the single tiled step soundlessly and can see no evidence of a person on the sofa, until he nears it.

Over the back of the pale, cream couch Louis can see Harry lay sprawled out on it. He was on his back and fast asleep, head angled uncomfortably to the side as his soft snores grew more audible. The quilt Louis used earlier was bunched up uselessly at Harry's bare feet while the slightest goosebumps gave away the truth that he was cold.

A man - _this man_ \- appeared so harmless and innocent, peaceful in losing his thoughts to a state of the unconscious. Someone so kind with closed eyes and plump lips could never be as violent as the person Louis saw come out of him today. 

Louis crept around the side of the couch without causing a disturbance to Harry's slumber. He liberates the dull quilt carefully, with adept movements, and instead pulls it over Harry's dozing form. He let's it lie up to his ears almost and tucks in the insulating cover at the man's shoulders. 

Without kneeling, Louis brings his lips to Harry's jaw. The bone is structured so artfully that it stood out in a breathtaking arch. Louis pressed his kiss to Harry's cheek in a slow breath and mistakenly inhaled the shower gel Harry used in his recent bath. 

Louis picks up the television remote and switches off the grand LED screen before walking away. When he chooses to, however, a hand makes a sudden grapple for his own and Louis nearly screams from such an attack. He stumbles in his footing but Harry's the who woke upon the kiss to his cheek and steadies Louis with both hands.

"Kitten?" His blurry vision from sleepy eyes, red-rimmed and evidently exhausted, all clear up so that his one image is Louis. 

Harry has grown a sixth sense just for Louis, his precious kitten. He knew when Louis was near even in sleep and when the boy was absent. _Always._ But in this moment when he hopes to grovel on his knees, beg for a stitch of forgiveness, Louis' hand is pulling free of his. 

"Kitten!" Harry shouts after him, gruelling agony coming from his aching back. All that fades into the background when he stands up in favour of catching Louis again. "Louis, wait!"

Louis doesn't stop running even when Harry calls so desperately for him. He takes the horrid duffel bag and hurriedly exits the house, breathing in ragged pants when he hears movement inside the mansion. Even then, when Harry yanks the door open with feral eyes, and Louis is halfway down the steps already, neither can bring themselves to stop. 

When Louis is across the driveway from him, standing as an island too far away for Harry to just _reach_ , headlights come out from the palatial garage. Edward's choice of vehicle is one that conveys their wealth, a starry Bentley. He comes to a halt between Harry and Louis, not sparing a glance at his brother, but his knuckles turn page white on the steering wheel and his jaw tightens with extensive pain. 

Harry meets Louis' eye and he pleads with his dreadfully heartfelt green, the earnest appeal to blue for repentance. Edward waits all of two seconds for Louis to climb in beside him before speeding off with tracks of blackened pebbles left behind to keep Harry company.

"Harry, don't." Marcel witnessed the entire thing and discouraged his brother from putting on his shoes. "Don't go after him like this."

"Why shouldn't I?" Harry snapped, snatching up his keys from where they're dumped and forgetting a jacket. 

Marcel winces. "Edward will kill you if you ruin tonight for him."

"I don't care."

"Harry!" Marcel's voice bellows, more violent and firm than before. He forces his sibling to focus on him this way. "You fucked up. Don't go destroying something else trying to fix what you did."

  
* * * * *  


Louis sat in solemn silence for the first ten minutes of the drive. He had his knees up to his chest and found solace in the heater that circulated warm air around him. Edward drove dangerously close to breaking the speed limit, and bypassed a white line on the freeway he wasn't meant to. 

The silence became crippling at the point when Edward had to stop at a red light and he did so with a sigh. "Princess?"

Louis' porcelain blue eyes were suddenly on him, gauging into the embers of a green fire. "Yeah?"

Edward extended his arm and fitted his hand against Louis', their fingers interlocked and held against the boy's clothed thighs. "Have you ever seen a unicorn?"

His question was _peculiar_ to say the least and Louis was prey to his own laughter soon after it was asked. He giggled with all the spontaneity and innocence someone who needed their burdens lifted had, his fingers loosening between Edward's and eyes lighting up like Christmas.

"Nah uh." He folded his legs that were short enough to fit on the leather seat, and kept Edward's hand in his even when the man started driving again. "Have you?"

"Sure." Edward mentally declares his strategy for distracting Louis a success.

Louis gasped in scandalised contempt and poked Edward's bare bicep. "You did not."

"Did to." Edward chuckles, his dimple forming on one cheek that Louis can see. He disappears and reappears under the concentration of the streetlights.

"Oh yeah?" Louis raises his eyebrow challengingly. "What proof do you have?"

"Don't need proof, princess." He briefly turns toward Louis when they're passing an intersection and winks indiscreetly. "Just need you."

**_[A/N: My exams are beginning soon, today in fact. You know what that means :( no updates for a while. I've already been mingy with the updates and I'm sorry but this year is so hectic. Don't know why I didn't quit when I was ahead. Please be patient and forgiving with me. I will try my best to get chapters out by late June or so. - S xx]_ **


	18. EIGHTEEN.

**_[A/N: Louis is adorable in this fic. I have cavities. - S xx]_ **

Harry has been brooding ever since Louis left and his annoying younger brother stopped him from following. He was lured onto their most comfortable couch and fooled into watching two consecutive Steven Seagal movies. He despises Steven Seagal. 

"Stop moping." Marcel chastises his sibling, dumping a pillow on Harry's face where it laid cradled on his lap. 

"How can I?" Harry punches the pillow away and turns onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

Marcel pitied his brother, immensely so. He's been forced to be more fond of Harry than of Edward throughout his bleak childhood and the affection had withstood the test of time. Edward was more of an island and separated himself from his brothers so as to amass the empire he has today. From the state they were in, Edward is solely responsible for putting them here. 

"Because Edward deserves this." Marcel replies slowly. "You know this, Harry."

"Yeah." Harry begrudgingly mumbled, turning his attention back to the movie. Marcel knew it wasn't over when he sighed so tiredly. "How badly do you think I fucked up with Louis?"

"Not severely enough to destroy any future chance you might have with him." Marcel counters firmly. "Is that bothering you?"

"You know it is." Harry closes his eyes with a steady frown on his brow. "Fucking pills."

"Don't blame the pills, Harry." Marcel clears his throat and tugs on Harry's hair to elicit some form of pain. "We told you go for rehab."

"I won't go for fuckin' _rehab_ , Marcel." Harry tosses the television remote with too much force onto the coffee table. "I'm not hooked."

"You're not but-" The youngest triplet woke up from the couch to refill his bowl of butter salted popcorn. "-we can't allow it to get there."

  
* * * * *  


Louis was antsy in his seat next to Edward, and the latter was amused by his excitement. They had gone through Starbucks to purchase something small for Louis to nibble on as Edward wanted him to have a full tummy. The cold turkey sandwich was eaten in minutes and Louis went back to playing with the rings on Edward's fingers.

The radio was on and Louis had slipped into a mental cloud that made him feel safe relying on Edward, and in turn satisfying his overly protective boyfriend.

"Edward?" He was leaning against the console and they were at a red light. All barriers between him and Louis had been submerged. 

Edward kissed Louis' forehead and watched him squirm a bit in his seat. "Yes, princess?"

Louis slipped Edward's largest steel band onto his thumb and noted how much space was left over. "How much longer?"

"You're excited I see." Edward chuckles and grants Louis his wish by pulling onto a street that's lined with expensive cars coming from lavish people. "We're here now, baby."

Louis was admiring each passing vehicle and Edward finally found a spot nearest to the entrance of where they're going. It didn't look like a nightclub for the reason that there's no line of unsteady, scantily dressed youngsters outside it and the bouncer at the door had a gun. Edward killed the engine and sat back, in awe of no being except his precious date.

"Princess, look at me." Edward reached over and took Louis' hands in his, the darkly tinted windows allowing them maximum privacy. 

Blazing blue eyes met his and they held an array of unearthed emotions. They each made Edward feel and for the green of his own eyes to melt under such innate beauty. He kissed Louis' wrists. 

"I have rules for tonight, baby. Is that okay?" He asks first. In order to ensure the certainty of Louis' safety and protection, he ought to be proactive. 

Louis nodded eagerly and earned a dimpled grin from his companion. "Yes."

Edward's lips twitch into a devilish smirk that he fails to suppress. "Most importantly, you can't forget to be _polite_."

A blush creeps its way onto Louis' cheeks and he lowers his gaze a little to his lap. Edward leans forward to nip at the sweet spot behind Louis' ear, feeling the warmth of Louis' blood against his lips. His boyfriend responded by squeaking and trying to fidget in the opposite direction.

"Y-Yes, Daddy." Louis whines lowly and grips Edward's hand where it's clasping his thigh.

Edward releases the spot of skin after suckling on its supple state, a faint bruise developing in place of where his lips were. "Good boy. First rule is do _not_ take anything from anyone who isn't me."

Louis blinks away some of the fuzziness that's developed in his vision. He has his head angled to the side and his forehead against Edward's. "Okay."

"I might have to keep a tally of spanks for you, sweetlips." Edward ignores the unwavering glare of a car's headlight as it passes them. 

Giggling mischievously with more than just a glimmer in his eye, Louis apologises by pecking Edward's cheek. "Sorry, Daddy."

Their tiny bubble that involved just them in the confines of an extravagant car was so appealing to the thunderous demons of their minds, the stampeding horses in their veins. Louis' kisses were sweet and delicate while Edward maintained his superiority. His weakness for Louis was bound to show tonight.

"My rule, princess." Edward returns to the topic at hand before it costs him. "No food, drink or anything other. Am I understood?"

Louis nods obediently, his expression sobering. "I promise."

Edward smiles briefly and a curtain is drawn over the emerald gems of his darkened eyes. "You are not allowed to speak with anyone I don't introduce you to and favour. No one. This is important, princess. There are dangerous people in there."

Louis, bless him, appears a little worried but not enough to be deterred from his enthusiasm. "I won't talk to anybody."

"Good." Edward draws in a sharp breath. "You are never to leave my side, okay? At all times I will ensure that I've got you with me."

That rule was more than merely substantial to Louis. He blushed a little, light pink that dusted his cheeks and neck. "I-I like this rule."

"Yeah?" Edward chuckles and cups Louis' cheek to kiss him a little too hard for impromptu. "It's my favourite rule."

Getting into the night establishment was easier than a snap of Edward's fingers. Louis was helped out of the Bentley by a stranger in a navy suit holding his door open. He immediately scurried to Edward's side as the cold wind abused him with its breeze, and tucked himself in under the man's arm.

"I need you to wear these." Edward extracted a set of black leather cases from behind his seat. 

Louis bounced on the soles of his shoes with an absent-minded pout. He hated the cold and zipped up Edward's leather jacket on himself, popping the collar so it concealed half his face. The owner opened the larger case first, the one Louis recognised. 

A gasp fell from Louis' lips when his crown came into view. Edward took it out, exposing the symbol of Louis' standing in his eyes to the chilly night, and slid it onto the boy's head. It sat comfortably a little hidden by his fringe and was a light presence on his forehead. The sapphires were just as breathtaking as Louis' eyes.

Nobody else was on the street as they were but Edward's men. Louis didn't think much of the dozen or so similarly dressed intimidating men until they seemed to concentrate on them. He was wary of their tall, frightening figures and shuffled a little closer to Edward when gruff voices lifted into the air.

"Don't be afraid of them, princess." Edward kissed Louis' temple under the cold steel design. "They're paid to keep you safe."

The next leather case was a new one and Louis peered curiously into it. He giggled abruptly when the glistening handcuffs came into view but he was the only one amused. It was evident that Edward and all his men took safety incredibly serious and the unconventional method of ensuring it was respected by them.

Edward took Louis' hand and thumbed over his slender wrist. He lifted his gaze to Louis', pinning the weaker will with his predatorial manner. "This will keep you with me all night."

Louis' mouth went a little dry from how deep and singed with meaning those words were. He couldn't look away when the foreign metal snapped around him, smooth rubber avoiding blisters. "I didn't think you were serious about um- _handcuffs._ "

"I was." Edward participates in the connection by latching the other band around his own opposite wrist, so that it was not inconvenient to walk beside Louis. "I am most serious when it comes to you, princess."

  
* * * * *  


"You're still moping, brother." Marcel observes callously as he falls onto the couch with his beer and popcorn. 

Harry glowers in the direction of his neglectful sibling. "Nobody else is going to do it for me, Marcel."

With a roll of his eyes, Marcel covers his legs in a blanket and prepares to speak. "Think about something else. Louis is going to come back and you can beg for forgiveness then."

"But I need to do that _now_." Harry argues pointedly. "I feel like I'm a breath away from death."

"Don't be dramatic, you idiot." Marcel shoves Harry's shoulder when he settles down. "Why don't we go out to get your mind off him?"

Harry briefly brightens although he tries to conceal with indifference. "Can we-"

"No."

  
* * * * *  


Louis' never been so out of tune in an atmosphere before. In this night establishment, the clubbing environment was not one he thought would be this obsolete. Instead of the flickering neon lights that should hurt his eyes, the distasteful club music that will threaten to make his ears bleed, or any raucous communications, there was none.

The inside of this building was magnificent and far from tacky. Transparent tiles lit up the floor with bright white lighting placed beneath it, adding to the beautiful ambience. A bar from wall to wall stretched across the space opposite to where they stood at the door, many patrons already seated there. Louis looked to his sides and there were dozens of booths in both dim and fluorescent lighting, deep red leather couches in a semi-circular shape around glossy black tables.

Louis breathed in slightly scented air of this elite gathering and clung a bit more to Edward. Besides the sophisticated nature of everyone present here, there were men just like those who accompanied Edward in the background. There were obviously many people here that are important to the underworld of crime and deception, and their motives put them in dire need of protection.

Edward's hand that's cuffed to Louis' for the rest of the night rested on his boy's hip, holding him securely and close. He signalled over one of his men with a crooked finger.

"Two of you stay with me tonight." He whispers behind the cover of his hand. 

The seemingly _main_ member of Edward's security detail mentioned it no further and enquired none. He nodded curtly and stepped away so that Edward's attention was once again drawn to Louis. Louis, who has been watching anything and everything that moved or glowed around them. His palm was on Edward's chest and he breathed evenly to ground himself.

"Alright there, baby?" Edward held Louis' hand captive as well for the discreet handcuff made certain positions awkward.

Louis hummed and kept looking at everything, using Edward's shoulder as a means to hoist himself higher. Many eyes fell on them, on Edward. The eldest Styles triplet was the ringleader to their world and watching him be so lenient with another was puzzling.

"Settle down." Edward whispered lowly in Louis' ear. He had to retain some figure of dominance even when his boyfriend was such a precious companion. "I actually have some business to attend to first, princess, so we'll be in my office."

"You have an office?" Louis' eyes grew wide and eager, earning a chuckle from his boyfriend. 

"Come." Edward looked over his shoulder at his men first before tugging Louis after him. 

Well-dressed and prim individuals looked at them go in envy and occasionally disinterest. Men of ages similar to Edward's and ranging to triple that were sipping on whiskeys, their contractual partners doing so from cocktails. Louis slipped past them all in favour of following Edward towards the only hallway down past the bars.

Men stood at the entrance of the narrow corridor and they greeted Edward with curt nods before stepping aside. Their guns are at their hips and hooked into their belts, readied for use. Louis is intimidated by their sight up until Edward tows him toward a single unmarked black door at the end of the corridor.

"This-" Edward unlocks the door by typing a password into a steel keypad beside it. "-is my lair."

Louis is beside himself with crinkled eyes and giggles. He looks back at the promise of outside interaction, and all the implications it presented, before he let's Edward take control of him. The office is opened and Edward tugs him after in gently before slamming the door shut so that they are allowed some privacy.

Inside is pitch black and smells exceedingly clean, like detergent and something else less pleasant. Louis attempts to allow his eyes an adjusting period but that is cut short by the release of a latch on his handcuff and Edward's less than careful palm gliding down to his bottom. He gasps and turns beet red.

 _"Daddy."_ He whimpers shyly with his face buried in Edward's neck and fists curled around the man's shirt. 

Edward chuckles and his lips are at Louis' ear. He squeezes the boy's glorious posterior and drags him closer. "You are beautiful, princess. How can I resist?"

Louis stretches up on his tiptoes and wraps his arms around Edward's neck now that they are freed. He was able to do so and would take full advantage. To retaliate, Edward simply lifted Louis up off the ground and hiked those warm thighs on his hips. He reached for a switch and let the lights come on to a small degree, illuminating their faces just enough to make out green from blue.

"What work do you have?" Louis asks the man that has him hoisted up. He was being carried to the vast deep oak desk before a black leather chair.

Edward sat down in his authentic leather seat with Louis in his lap and had a voluntary, devious twinkle accompanying his smirk. "I may have lied."

Louis' lips became a perfect circle as light pink dusted his cheeks. He folded his legs so they were comfortable and leaned entirely against the body that held him. Edward's wrist still held the handcuff dangling off it and Louis turned to nuzzle the man's neck. Hard as it may be, it was far more enticing to just stay here rather than venture out in public.

"I have to prepare you for meeting the people out there." Edward's fingertip trailed up Louis' arm and back down again. 

"Oh." Louis was comfortable enough to lie like this forever. 

Edward did him the honour of encircling his waist so Louis need not bother with balancing himself. "You cannot give them any personal information, about me or yourself."

Louis pulls away a little to study Edward's hardening features. "What qualifies as personal?"

"Everything besides your first name." The corner of Edward's mouth twitches in a humoured smirk. He had an aura of arrogance about him, knowing that he sat on top of the food chain rather than being prone to others' mercy. 

"Okay." Louis looked at the objects on Edward's table to entertain himself for a short moment. 

He was easily distracted yet he paid attention to everything, Edward noted about his other half. Atop the dull surface of his monstrous table was a leather desk pad, scattered pens and nothing else. His drawers were all locked and that's where the important stuff was. Louis reached for a pen and came back to Edward's embrace with one fine tool.

"Are you listening, baby?" Edward tested the waters, involuntarily brushing his thumb back and forth over Louis' hip. 

"I'm listening."

Louis' sparkling cerulean eyes hastened to meet his and they were full of wonder, an unearthed sample of beauty. He wasn't frightened to be in a place of so much death and harm, only enthusiastic to learn about Edward's life. A vow was made in that heartbeat by Edward, to never let anything take Louis from him.

He sealed the deal with the demon he promised it too by resting his forehead against Louis', planting a chaste kiss to the boy's cheek. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Those magnificent jewels that were Louis' unique eyes became lit up with mirth. "We just ate, Daddy."

"Yes, I know." Edward rested his head back against his chair. "I'll order you a milkshake from the bar later, okay?"

There wasn't a response immediately, like Louis always answered so promptly. Instead, there was a set of feather light lips pressing against the skin under his chin where his stubble was faint. Louis' scent overwhelmed his senses and Edward's breathing hitched, rocked with paralysis until his boy withdrew.

"Thank you." The words were whispered, low and caramel sweet, against his rigid jaw. 

Edward tilted his chin back into its correct position and met Louis' eye for once, to read the boy's inexplicably embarrassed look. He caught Louis' cheek in his palm before he could look away. "Don't be shy, sweetlips. You're mine and I'm yours. There's nothing that should frighten you about that."

Louis' breath was caught in his throat when he smiled and nervously chewed his lip. "What does that mean?"

This question puzzled Edward and he rubbed Louis' sides in thought. All his life he went through the notions without knowing there was a body as sweet as this one meant for him to caress. "It means that all your affections are mine."

The body wrapped around him brings more comfort than lying on a cloud could. Louis sat back on his haunches and Edward was right there to keep him prisoner. He both wanted to gauge the man's expression as well as hide from its intensity. "A-And are your affections all mine?"

"Of course they are. Only yours, princess." Edward chuckled and leaned in close to kiss the tip of Louis' nose.

  
* * * * *  


"I don't like it here." Harry sniffed and informed his brother beside him. He's in a raving nightclub that's turning him into a puddle of hatred and yearning to be outside.

Marcel looks at him incredulously under the intense strobe lights, eyes lit up with mirth as he laughed uproariously. "This used to be your temple, brother."

"Yeah, well-" Harry looked around him and being this well above six feet gave him an evident advantage. "-it isn't anymore."

His temple had two legs and stunning blue eyes. He could go through all the beautiful people to walk this planet and never get the feelings he does with Louis. At this unfortunate moment, he allows himself to be towed through the crowd to the bar. Two seats clear instantly at the sight of them and Harry has hardly been on it for a heartbeat before there's an obnoxious red-head leaning on him.

Marcel doesn't even bother to help him no matter how pained Harry looks by her presence. She was attractive without any discernible doubt and she would be Harry's type in another lifetime but all of this life belonged to Louis.

"Hi-"

"No thanks." He dismissed her rudely by turning away and summoning the bartender.

Marcel was cackling like he's already knocked back a few and shook his head confidently when the mystery redhead tried her luck with him. "Try again somewhere else, darling."

After the promiscuous young lady huffed audibly and dejected, she stormed off theatrically. Her body disappeared between the dancing mass of humanity and Marcel found a drink before him, supplied by Harry. Harry was hunched over and visibly troubled but he clinked glasses nonetheless with Marcel before downing the burning alcohol.

His inhibitions began to lower after two shots and when the bartender granted him a a concession with a beer. He ignored his coaster and stared blankly at the varnished wooden bar surface, his mind empty and heart heavy.

"You, Sir, look like someone drowned your puppy." Someone took up residence beside him, tempting him into another aggravated rejection.

"Find someone else." He snapped in a very non-gentlemanly manner. All the manners he was raised on went out the window when he drank. 

The person was female and wearing a ridiculous red leather jacket. She sat down regardless of his foul mood and hiked her biker boots up on the adjacent stool. "As if I'd go for you. Bartender, your strongest rum drink!"

While her drink was being made, Harry raised his head to regard this strange person. He continually nudged Marcel until his younger sibling cared enough to look up from his phone screen. "What?"

This estranged individual was just tucking her phone away as well, into the pocket of her black leggings. Inside her red leather jacket was a black sports bra and nothing else, her olive skin well toned and jet black hair tied back into a braid. 

"Something of interest, bud?" She antagonises Harry with a raised eyebrow and drum of her manicured nails on the bar top. "I'd suggest finding someone else."

Harry liked this stranger, and his smirk grew with his interest. Before he could open his mouth for a suave comment, the unnamed acquaintance took a gulp of her drink and tucked a green bill into the cleavage of the woman behind the counter. Harry didn't restrain his boisterous laughter and clap of his hands, especially when he got to witness the flabbergasted expression of her victim.

"I'm Clover." The wildly courageous female stuck her hand out and Harry shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet me, I know."

"Harry Styles." He introduced himself before motioning toward his flustered brother. "This is Marcel."

Her hazel brown eyes grew wide as they darted from brother to brother. "You're twins?"

"Triplets, actually." Marcel corrected with a charming smile. He was best out of their trio at meeting new people when he's drunk. 

"Woah." She rounded her heart-shaped lips and finished the rest of the drink. "You have to let me take a picture of you. Is the third one here?"

"No." Harry shook his head, a little mournfully as he is reminded bitterly of where Edward is. "He's out with our boy."

"Okay so-" Clover's hand gestures became more and more elaborate as her intoxicated buzz worsened. She even leaned closer like she was asking a secret. "-are you three like the kind that have sex with each other?"

Marcel coughed - more like hacked - on his drink and had to take several laboured breaths to calm down. He let his forehead fall onto his arms in misery. Harry wasn't one to shy away from any type of prying question, so he answered.

"No." He chuckled and raked his fingers through his hair. 

"Too bad." Clover sat up ramrod straight and cleared her throat, swirling the lonesome ice blocks in her glass. "I'd pay to see that, you know."

  
* * * * *  


Louis was a little independent butterfly and Edward despised the fact. He wanted Louis to stick by his side and not politely smile at so many people, the rigid state of his jaw evident of the fact. His boy hardly said more than a soft greeting but Edward was seething with jealousy when more people came to pay him mind.

Their wrists were handcuffed and kept connected that way. Louis was fine with the curious looks he got whenever a set of eyes landed on their odd means of staying together. He held Edward's hand and stayed under his arm for his own safety. 

"You're so lovely." Edward praised with his lips pressed to the boy's hair. His fingers dug into Louis' hip as he led him towards the bar at last. "Everyone has their eyes on you."

Louis looked over Edward's shoulder nervously to gather evidence of that fact. He saw many eyes revert to the condensation of their drinks or the intoxicated attention of their partners. Edward took this opportunity to kiss Louis' neck and the boy has grown very accustomed to his boyfriend's many displays of affection.

"What kind of milkshake do you want, baby?" Edward asked Louis after he tugged the boy back down to the ground. 

He was extracting his credit card from his wallet while Louis took in the options. "Strawberry please."

Edward nodded before reciting the order to the bartender and sliding into one of the vacant leather bar stools. He ordered a beer for himself and tried coaxing Louis onto his lap, but the boy resisted. Edward gripped Louis' hips with vice-like strength.

"Something wrong, princess?" He asked lowly while reeling Louis in between his parted knees. 

The hands from Louis' hips slipped lower and around the back to his very sinful behind. He waited for Louis protest but nothing came of it and he settled the boy in against his front. 

Louis rested his hands on Edward's shoulders and let his boyfriend's chin sit on his own. "Been sitting all day."

Edward hums keeps his hands agrope to Louis' pert bottom. This act of posssessiveness kept him feeling proud and dominant, knowing that this wonder of a boy was meant to be all his. "Okay then."

The bartender made and served Louis' bright pink milkshake in a tall, frosted glass. There was a striped straw jabbed into the soft, icy drink. Louis stayed on his feet while Edward received his alcoholic drink. It gave his blood a little buzz and Louis watched his Adam's Apple bob as it passed down his throat.

"Is it good?" Edward asks after Louis' first sip and his upper lip has a little milky thread across it.

Louis licks his lip with his little pink tongue and grins sheepishly. "I like it. Do you want some?"

"No, princess." Edward chuckles and denies. "That's all for you."

"Do you own this place?" Louis asked him out of genuine curiosity, eyes inspecting every expensive facet of the establishment. 

"My brothers do as well." Edward informs him, watching everyone around them at the same time as watching Louis. "Is it to your liking?"

Louis' fingers fanned out on Edward's bicep and he looked up at the sparkling chandelier, tiny jewels bouncing off his porcelain skin from its reflection. He nodded at the bartender and the lights all over dimmed so that it was just the chandelier thriving on light. Louis was thrilled with the change and watched the ceiling lights go from neon to subtle blue. 

"It's wonderful." Louis proclaims without hesitation, unaware of Edward studying him so intently. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Their eyes connected again when Louis fidgeted with the worrisome handcuff, and Edward found no shame in squeezing Louis' behind. He gave his boy a kiss to seal their moment between two sets of lips.

"Thank you for being mine, princess." Edward murmured against Louis' cherry lips. "No man will ever be happier than I am with you."

To interrupt them, an intruder in the form of a tightly fitted black dress on a slender figure. Edward just about removes his face from the juncture of Louis' neck, and looks up to see the feminine individual approaches them. He clenches his jaw and wraps both arms securely around Louis' body _just in case_. 

"I wouldn't come any closer if I where you." He snarls over Louis' shoulder to the woman. 

Louis becomes a little curious but Edward doesn't let him look, rendering the boy still. He straightens his back and protectively embraces Louis. The girl has a vindictive smile teasing her glossy lips and she isn't frightened by Edward's threat.

"It's nice to see you too, babe." She crosses her ankles while sitting down next to him, her flashy leather heels laced all the way up her calves. 

Edward rolls his eyes and massages the base of Louis' spine with his fingertips. It occupies his rage with the feathery delicacy that came with his boyfriend. "How were you allowed in here?"

"Where there's a will there's a way, E." Her gaze wanders over Louis' form, full of curiosity and judgement. "And who's this?"

Edward looks over his shoulder and calls Eric closer with a snap of his fingers. "Get her out of here."

Eric sees the aforementioned female and he as well turns a little stoney. "You got it, Boss."

  
* * * * *  


Clover demanded that Harry and Marcel leave the sleazy bar with her, before accompanying each other to a nearby park. They sat on a lonely bench facing a lake, Clover between both Styles brothers as they look at the rippling water's surface. 

She fished out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and offers both companions accordingly. Marcel lights his first before Harry and he blows a puff of grey smoke into the chilly night air.

"You never told me why you were so grouchy earlier." Clover zips up her jacket and takes a whiff of mind-numbing smoke into her system. 

Harry blows a ring of silvery air into the night, a perfect circle that disipitates with time and wear. "Doesn't matter now."

"I can tell that it does." She insists, crossing her legs on the bench and letting her skin show through the ripped knees of her leggings. "Go on, Grumpy. I've got all night."

Marcel watches the glow of his cigarette become ignited and die as he waits for his brother to begin. Harry clears his throat and scratches the cold tip of his nose. 

"I screwed up with our boy." Harry finally admits with something scratchy and uneasy about his tone. "Didn't mean to but I hurt him."

Clover is sympathetic with a mock pout and she puts her head on his shoulder, the muscle build onto flesh and bone becoming a tough pillow. "Poor baby."

"Fuck off." He pushes her away but a little chuckle finds its way onto his lips regardless. 

"What about you then?" Clover turns her laser focused inquisition towards an unsuspecting Marcel.

The victim responds with an indiscreet cough into his fist and sinking lower into his seat. "I'm fine."

"Wait. So-" Clover angles her body towards Harry suddenly, a powerful retaliation about her squinted vision. "-how did you fuck up with your boy?"

Harry winced because the words stung him almost as much as the memory did. "He's scared of me now."

"I say buy him flowers." Clover concludes with a sniffle. "One in each colour. He'll forgive you then."

"I doubt it." Harry grits in self-hatred. "He hardly cares about materialistic things."

Clover blinks at him stupendously. "Flowers are from the bloody ground, Grumpy. Nothing about that is materialistic."

  
* * * * *  


Edward's most recent conversation, however short-lived, has granted ammunition to his hatred for other people. He watched Eric drag a woman he's known so _closely_ before out of his club, before diving right into the troubled gaze of his boyfriend. That led to a brief shake of his head signalling that he's rather not talk about the suspicious interaction.

Louis inevitably succumbed to Edward's wishes when he let himself be led away from the bar. His milkshake came with him but Edward tossed back the last of his bourbon before unlocking the door to his office again. They snuck in with the corridor's shadows to conceal them, and Edward made sure to triple check that the barrier was locked behind them.

His boyfriend and evening's companion was _magnificent_ and he was a mere, weak man. He undid the handcuff and Edward could not be blamed for pinning Louis right there against the door.

"Remember when I made you feel better, princess?" Edward's wet lips scraped Louis' cheekbone and his boy squirmed excitedly against him. "It was just you and I."

Short and bony fingers threaded their way into Edward's hair, Louis' neck arching to allow him more access to it. Edward took advantage of Louis' submission and starting sucking on the thin skin, abusing its surface with his teeth. He moaned with Louis' body under the ministrations of his tongue, and he picked up his boyfriend by the backs of his thighs.

He dropped Louis onto his sofa made of neglected and cold leather, supporting his body with the armrest as he crawls over the boy. His blazing green eyes lit a fire in the pit of Louis' belly, made his breathe choppy and toes curl. 

"I need that again, princess." He roughly buried his face in Louis' neck and pressed his dainty, fragile wrists into the couch cushion. "Is that okay, sweetlips?"

Louis' admission and pliant body is the reason that Edward will die a sinner, irrespective of the fact that the soul he worships is purer than the sun. For these reasons, they are in their current position of Louis bare from the waist down and squirming so delightfully against the couch cushion beneath him.

Edward rubbed Louis' sides from under his arms to the sensational structure of his hip bones. He had the boy pinned on his front so that his lips and teeth were free to scour the planes of Louis' bare skin. Without pushing more boundaries than Louis was comfortable with, he crawled up to Louis' eye level and connected their lips.

"Tell me to stop whenever you're uncomfortable, princess." He warns his fragile boyfriend. The _last_ thing he wanted to chance was hurting Louis. "Answer me, baby."

"Y-Yes, Daddy." He nods eagerly and waits to hear his next instruction. 

Edward helped Louis get onto his back whilst kneeling between the boy's glorious thighs. He ran his hands up Louis' legs from his ankles to his hips and let's his fingers hover over the released button. Louis already looked blissed out and had a difficult time of resisting his baser urges.

Soon his boy began to whimper and roll his hips in a filthy routine that made Edward's pants tighten inexplicably. The scrunched up nose and screwed lips made Edward aware that Louis was in discomfort.

"Alright, baby. I'm sorry." He brought his mouth low enough on Louis' belly to scatter kisses on the boy's tummy. 

He lowered the zip of Louis' short jeans and smothered the boy's skin with kisses while tugging on it. The fabric gives away easily enough and Louis' bare body is soon exposed to the man above him. Louis sighs as he sinks into the couch and let's Edward strip him of his pants. His chest constricts at the same time that his fingers tighten.

"That must be better." Edward whispered into Louis' belly button where he nipped the pudgey skin and smirked at Louis' jolt.

Louis threaded his fingers through Edward's hair and let his jaw fall slack, mouth gaping. He's so much more confident and radiant, Edward would rather watch Louis for the rest of his life than look away. His skin burns with arousal and conflict when Edward's finger crooks around the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

"Can I take this off?" Edward asks politely, meeting Louis' eye with a lick of his lips. 

He waits for an agonising minute for Louis to consent before prying the fabric off Louis' body. His boyfriend had a delicious little figure and it _pleasured_ him just thinking that it's all his. Edward spends a minute devoting himself to the texture of Louis' hairless skin, rubbing his thumbs into where thigh grew into pelvis.

"You. Are. Beautiful." He bent over his boy and gave Louis a deep kiss for each word, followed by a tug on his lip. 

Louis mewled shakily and sat his hands on Edward's waist under his blackened shirt. He was shielded under the man's body and it brought him comfort, security. Edward was still clothed from the waist down but when he shed his shirt, enough bare skin was in contact to make Louis feel like he's burning up.

"Look at me, princess." He encouraged softly, lips grazing Louis'. The deepest end of green grew expanded and devoured Louis' defenceless sapphires. "I have to know when you want me to stop."

Louis sucked his lip in between his teeth and frowned a little. His blood has drained from anywhere else and filled his c*ck to an extent of aching. 

"Oh love." Edward nuzzled Louis' neck and felt the boy's gulp against his lips. He laced their fingers together and suddenly pressed them into the sofa with all his might. "You like when Daddy takes care of you?"

Ragged breathing came from a flushed chest and Edward attached his lips to one of Louis' pebbled nipples. They were pink and obviously sensitive by the way he had to hold Louis down or risk a stubborn jerk. He rolled the nipple between his front teeth and inhaled all Louis' broken noises, his helpless shudders. He licked a stripe across the neglected nipple and Louis almost shrieked, nails digging into Edward's knuckles.

"Relax, my love." Edward mumbled between Louis' pectorals, moving towards the left. "Let yourself feel, baby. This is all for you."

A lump formed in Louis' throat, obstructing his intakes of air. Edward teeth sucked harshly on the skin of his chest, beckoning heated blood to the surface. He didn't stop until Louis was a pitiful mess, sweat causing his skin to gleam and arching his spine painfully. Edward let his love-bite rest right over Louis' heart before shuffling further down, eager to get to the even better stuff.

Edward's warn breath fans over the tip of Louis' c*ck and its owner rewards Edward with a tiny whimper. Nobody has cared to please any part of his body and this experience has him galloping towards each act of affection. Louis waits obediently but enthusiastically to be touched and when he does, he's tossing his head back with a shout.

"Hush now." Edward chuckled, pulling off Louis' stout length with a smirk. "I don't want everyone to hear you, princess. You're mine."

"Yes." Louis gasped. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy."

Edward left a trail of kisses along Louis' pulsating length from the base to his tip, letting his teeth graze the slit. Precome dribbled from it and Edward kitten licked the remnants off Louis' tummy. Louis was delightful to shower with pleasure because he didn't stuff himself inside reservations or concerns, he evidently let himself go. Edward wants to be between his thighs for his entire existence.

"You're mine." Edward repeats, revelling in the spot closest to Louis' thigh where he bred another mark. "All mine."

Louis in his bejewelled crown nearly hidden by his ruffled chestnut hair, was a sinful sight bound to haunt Edward's dreams. He had the body of an ethereal being beneath him and Edward was the pilgrim to grant it affection.

He enveloped the tip of Louis' c*ck with his lips and easily swallowed around the length on his path downwards. Louis cried out in a twist of painstakingly vivid arousal, his hands being lodged under the weight of his back as a warning not to move. 

Edward hasn't done this to anyone before, not when he was starting in the underground business world or when he stood above it. He was the one in charge all the time but somehow Louis reduced him to a starved man, plagued with the craving for _more_. His dominant nature was squashed under a yearning too ravaging to be ignored, and he bobbed his head with an obvious lack of skill.

Louis was so appreciative either way. He was humble even now when everyone was entitled to be demanding; lying there breathless and excited all in the same mood. The heat around his c*ck was blazing and he thrived on its prowess, the sandpapery tongue circling his erection and the mouth on him. 

A wet pop followed the sound of Edward pulling off him and Louis stared intently at his boyfriend's swollen lips. They were nearing his own as the couch creaked and Edward was looming over him. Guarded and shy, Louis let his hands find purchase on Edward's shoulderblades. 

"Hi." He greets chastely when Edward's eyes wander up and down the exterior of his body.

"Sweet boy." Edward's lips connected with Louis', slotting into place with one another in perfected synchrony. 

Louis felt Edward's haste in reaching down and shoving his jeans past his thighs. A bulge pressed into him and he gasped audibly with another body moulded to his. His knuckles whitened and his eyes rolled back into his skull, hips at the command of Edward's nails digging into them.

"I need you to come, baby." Edward rasped in a strangled voice, hips bucking a bit harshly. "Get yourself wet, princess. Come on."

With a shout to the barren ceiling, Louis felt his insides clench and finally a release crash into him. He was holding Edward close and came between their stomachs, an utterly ruined mellowness developing in the blue of his eyes.

"Good boy." Edward kissed Louis' temple and moved down to his cheek, still gyrating his hips for friction.

The position was uncomfortable for Louis now with how sensitive he is and the drying come on his skin. "D-Daddy, can I-"

Louis' pause midsentence made Edward a mess and he knew to stretch his boy's body out so they're perfectly aligned but he even more so wanted to curl around him. He wanted to protect his boy, keep him safe and content the way they are now.

"Yeah, baby? What is it?" Edward encouraged, a stark raving lunatic with wild eyes and jerky movements. 

To still Edward, Louis bravely wrapped his legs around the man's waist and arms around his neck. Their foreheads were relying on each other and Edward was lost to inner turmoil just as much as Louis. The cold air brought their lips close enough to be touching but now connected.

Something fleeting passes through Louis' eyes and Edward misses their feeling. "Wanna......t-touch you too."

Edward groans and the angry vein in his neck sticks out against his flushed skin, fingers tightening in the knot they're in with Louis'. It brought on a flood of restraint that Edward was no guarded enough for, and it took _everything_ in him to shake his head. Completing the denial hurt for him at each point where their bodies touched.

"This is for you, princess. Not me." He manages to get out, thumbs rubbing odd circles into Louis' wrists. 

Louis' face is tucked into the juncture of his neck and he's mouthing at the man's skin. Edward's hands roamed Louis' body after freeing the boy to scratch at the couch cushion. His orgasm came when Louis' lips reached his cheek and his smaller hands settled on his hips. Edward cursed and added to the mess between them.

Edward waited for a minute before he moved an inch. He retook Louis' hands and kissed each fingertip with a smile on his lips. "Okay, baby? Did I hurt you?"

"No." Louis shook his head a little lazily and laid back against the armrest. 

He was the physical embodiment of a goddess, because of the soft features and curves. Those erratic yet brilliant blue eyes of his were wider, exposing more black from the pupil. His narrow chest with reddening skin still slowing down from their rapid inhalations. Curling and curling his fingers, Louis giggled when Edward nibbled on the inside of his palm.

"You are beautiful." Edward kissed Louis' forehead and the tip of his nose. "So beautiful."

Louis blushed so that the skin of his cheeks had dibs on the blood flow. His smile was suppressed by the bite he held over his bottom lip. He no longer felt odd with the mess on their fronts, just satisfied to be this close to Edward.

"Baby." Edward kissed Louis deeply and for long enough that it rendered them both a little fuzzy. 

He dipped his tongue into Louis' mouth and framed the side of his face, swallowing Louis' moans as their tongues clashed. Nails were piercing his sides and Edward hardly winced before dominating Louis' part in their fervent union. Time can pass in years and Edward would still want to kiss Louis forever if given the choice.

Louis' reciprocation of the kiss was underexprienced and nervous, but somehow much braver than what Edward remembers from their first kiss. He presses his elbows into the couch contraption whilst suckling on Louis' upper lip or nipping at the tip of his little pink tongue. Louis was blissed out and hyped up on Edward's charge of body against him.

"Daddy." He breathed into Edward's neck after pulling away for air. 

Edward understood what he was going ask before it could be verbalised. "I'll clean you up now, baby."

He stood up from the sofa and fetched a few tissues from a discarded box on a faraway cabinet. Upon returning, Edward finds Louis sitting up with his legs crossed and shirt bunched up on his lap. His hair is disarrayed and he's trying, whilst chewing on his lip, to fix it. 

Edward wipes Louis clean before himself and heaves the boy off his perch to settle instead on his lap. He allows Louis to put his own shirt back on before getting to work organising the tilted crown on his head. Some of Louis' hair has become tangled with the intricate steel carving and Edward works to cause minimal pain.

"You have lots of tattoos." Louis observes when he's got nothing to do but examine the artwork scrawled across the man's chest. 

"I do." Edward frees the crown and sets it back on Louis' head in a better position, settling his palms on Louis' bare thighs afterwards. 

"Did they hurt?" Louis asks, his finger tracing the outline of a card deck.

Edward has a strange glint in his eye when he's watching Louis this way. "The first time."

"Oh." Louis accepted the honesty. "Would you let me get a tattoo?"

"No, princess." Edward scoffed with a laugh. He nuzzles Louis' neck to lessen the blow of his rejection.

Louis' pout is on full blast. "But why?"

Edward raises his eyebrow expectantly, spanking Louis' bottom after thirty seconds when the boy didn't rectify his error.

"Ow." Louis reached back to rub the spot that's stinging red with simmering blood. He captures Edward's wrist to prevent another one. "Daddy, that hurt."

It was easy to gather that Louis is the _tiniest_ bit dramatic when he feels upset and Edward _loves it_. "Did it, baby?"

"Hmm." Louis covers his yawn but the stinging of his eyes leads to tired tears that leave his means of vision a little blurred. 

"Would you like to nap here or do you want to go home now?" Edward asked, skipping over the loose term for where they live.

"I promised to stay." Louis yawns again and sniffles whilst rubbing irritably at his itchy eyes. 

"You made no such promise." Edward presses a chaste kiss to the top of Louis' head. "I'll take you home, baby."


	19. NINETEEN.

**_[A/N: I appreciate you guys offering your support to this story and for spreading the word. I owe it all to you, loves :) - S xx]_ **

Edward didn't have the guts to take Louis home when the boy was clearly content with staying where he is. Louis was fully clothed again - one present con to the situation - and sitting astride his boyfriend's lap. They're at Edward's large oak desk overlooking the tinted glass windows at all the people. None of the partying individuals outside could peer in and disturb their tranquility, but Louis was free to ask about certain unfamiliar faces all he wanted.

"What about him?" Louis posits, propping one elbow up on Edward's shoulder. 

Edward's palm circled Louis' knee at the hem of his shorts and looked to the balding businessman Louis pointed out. "A previously very fierce competitor of mine. He almost stole my authority."

Louis circled his lips in curiosity and looked at Edward with a slightly tilted gaze, his attention so concentrated. "How did he manage to almost do that?"

"Well, princess, he played the game just like I did." Edward said with a tired sigh. "Except I knew when to play my ace."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Daddy." Louis kisses Edward's dimpled cheek and smiles shyly. He squeaks when his bum is pinched. 

"Alright, baby." Edward cast his eyes back on the mass of humanity outside his office, going about their haphazard business. "There's an appropriate time to play dirty in this game of ours, and he had more morals than anyone expected."

"Oh." Louis now felt bad for the old guy, even though he seemed to be doing well enough with a young blonde in his lap under the blinding pink strobe lights. "Are you sure?"

"That was true for before his wife died and his son abandoned him for a cult." Edward spoke in a robotic, detached monotone. "Anyone else you'd like to know about, baby?"

Louis looked back into the throngs of the dancing crowd and sweating bodies. He scrunched up his nose at their condition but overcame the anxiety that bubbled in his chest from picturing himself sandwiched between strangers. Edward is absentmindedly rubbing circles into his lower back under his shirt and he leans into the man, recalling a strange event from earlier.

"Who was that woman you got angry at earlier?" Louis asked in a quiet voice, wincing involuntarily when Edward's arms around him became tense. 

"Don't worry about that." Edward cleared his throat and tightened his arms around his boy, burying his face in Louis' neck. "She's irrelevent, princess."

"But-"

"You're forbidden to ask me about her, Louis." Edward said stonily, forcing Louis' gaze to tilt backward so he can match it with hard timbre. "Am I clear?"

Louis was a little hurt - a lot hurt - but he wasn't sure if he's entitled to feeling that way. A relationship is new territory to him and he'll have to ask Niall about it first. Edward notices his inner conflict and realises who this is in his grasp, whose weight lay curled up on his lap.

He inwardly punished himself by briefly closing his eyes and muttering a hateful curse. His forehead rests on Louis' and his lips brush the boy's sweet cherry ones. 

"I'm so sorry, princess." Edward treasured Louis above everything and he's not allowed by his own adoration to frighten the boy this way. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me." Louis' hand wrapped barely around Edward's wrist and he granted the pained man a brief kiss, smiling through it. "Do you really not want to tell me?"

"No, I must." Edward released a strangled groan. He squeezed his eyes shut so his eyelids hurt and kissed Louis hard enough to bruise their lips. "She used to frequent this club during the time that it was still being built. I was still a boy then, and easily believed that her attention was intended for something genuine."

Louis hated hearing this story but was already turning in Edward's lap. He comforted the man by allowing him to grip his hips as stiffly as he pleased. His knuckles caressed Edward's sturdy jaw and his sapphire blue eyes searched Edward's withdrawn dark orbs for some salvation.

"Long story short, princess, she fooled me." Edward seemed to snap like a rubber band. He returned from his vulnerable state of mind to his tower of strength like nothing happened, the green returning to his eyes. "As penance for the time she made me believe I was heartbroken, I took everything from her."

Louis didn't ask what he meant by that but the cryptic message was essenced by Edward's blackening gaze. He swallowed with a jerky nod and nuzzled Edward's neck over a particularly favoured skull tattoo. His fingers curled against the man's clavicle and he smiled when a pair of lips brushed his temple.

Edward didn't strike him as someone that was easily bluffed by anyone and it shocked him to hear this story of his past. Louis accepted that everyone changes and Edward must have too, this event being the one to trigger his determination to reach the top. 

"You're mine now, Daddy." Louis tells him without inhibitions, fisting the front of Edward's shirt. "And I'm yours."

"That's right, baby boy." Edward chuckles proudly and kisses Louis' cheekbone. "All yours. I'm glad you're aware that isn't going to change."

Louis closed his eyes and wrapped his arms securely around Edward's neck, face turned into the side of the man's throat. "I'm sorry she did that to you, Edward."

"It's passed now, princess." Edward kissed the top of Louis' head and rubbed the arch of his back. "You're all that concerns me now."

There's an obnoxious knock on the door that disturbs them and Louis isn't allowed to pull away. Edward answers the door by pressing a button on the silver speaker centralised on his desk. 

"Yes?" He speaks curtly. Louis has a perculiar admiration for Edward's professional persona. It was trimmed and classy, regardless of how foul his activities could be.

Edward looks down a bit to wink at Louis, who blushes profusely before ducking from the man's advancements toward a kiss. He giggles and they're shortly smothered by Edward's lips crashing over his, sharp teeth nipping at the tip of his tongue.

"You've got three visitors, Boss." Eric tells Edward through the intercom system. Noise from the active club in the background muffles some of his words. "I would tell 'em to fuck off but uh-......you might wanna see these three."

Edward withdraws from his kiss with Louis and pecks the boy's forehead to compensate for the absence. He holds down the black speaker button whilst talking. 

"Send them in." He says gruffly, straightening in his seat at the same time that he ends his call. Louis starts to get up but Edward tightens his fingers on the boy's scrumptious waist. "And where do you think you're going, princess?"

Louis looked down in trepidation at the searching green eyes that quizzed him. "Um- I thought you wanted privacy."

"No, love." Edward helped Louis resume his position on his lap, legs folded across Edward's lap. "You were meant to see my world tonight. This is one vital component."

"Okay." It is worth noting that Louis is extremely nervous about watching Edward deal with his clientele. 

Edward's arm snakes its way around his back in a firm, inpenetrable hold. It is meant as Louis' reassurance that his boyfriend will stay right there to protect him from anything. Louis heard the door open and he straightened his hunched shoulders a bit, grateful for Edward's steel grip helping him. 

"Remember my rules, princess." Edward whispers in Louis' ear. 

The man that walks through the door is a confident one, but he's upholding a facade if Louis knows anything about courage. He is evidently shaken up by something and his indiscreet gaze flickers to every corner in the room. This stranger has on a silver suit over a white dress shirt and appears very business like. Edward doesn't even have to _stand up_ to have more command than him.

"Nice to see you, Hendry." Edward greets, ice cold with a whole new look curtaining his soft green eyes. 

"Edward-" The dark haired, middle-aged man attempts to get a word in. He fails.

"Sit."

The seat across from them is taken up and Louis does everything not to look in Hendry's direction. He fidgets with his own fingers but that is disapproved of by Edward, who creates a bruising hold on Louis' hip. Louis bites his bottom lip and stops immediately.

"Eric said it was worth disrupting the night with my boy to see you." Edward said boldly. "Nothing short of moving distant galaxies will impress me tonight."

Louis has the urge to giggle. He covers it up by thinking about wounded baby animals and sobers instantly.

Hendry evidently did not want to spend more time in Edward's company than necessary. He pulled something out of his pocket and dumped it heaily onto the table. Louis caught a glimpse of the item and he had to do a double take.

"Your money." A thick wad of cash lay rolled up between the two dealers and Edward merely scrutinised it with his gaze.

"How kind of you." Edward's smirk was sinister. "If there is a cent less, expect another _visit_. Get out."

Somehow, the prospect of this visit frightened Hendry more than just having Edward count it to confirm. He woke up and walked out after several moments of hesitation. Louis released a long breath that he hadn't known he was holding and looked up. Edward was watching him intently.

"Do me a favour, baby?" Edward pecked Louis' lips as payment for possibly accepting this offer.

"Hmm?" Louis wanted to help, relative to the task involved. 

Edward took the roll of cash from the center of the desk and opened it, fanning it out for security reasons, and handing the whole stack to Louis. "Count it for me."

"Um." Louis stared at the insane amount of bills in his hands, awed and confused. "How much is there supposed to be?"

Edward smiled and pressed his lips to Louis' temple. His boy had a good heart and that's why he had to make sure Louis didn't pity anyone. "Can't tell you."

Louis pouted but stopped when Edward repositioned him to face the desk and complemented the love-bite on his neck with a kiss. He crossed his legs on Edward's lap and the chair was dragged closer to the desk so he could lean on Edward when he tired. 

"The next one, Eric. I haven't got all night." Edward's tone was harsh and unforgiving when he ordered his men around.

Seconds later the door flew open and Louis was a little rattled by it. He hardly saw the young man that was tossed into Edward's office before his eyes fell back to the task at hand. Counting money is never something he's been assigned to do and he wants to do it right this time. Louis barely registers Edward's communication with his new appointment.

"It was bold of you to come here, Timmy." Edward said to the jittery youth. "I'll give you that."

"S-Sir, I have your money. I mean- yeah, I can _get it_." Poor Timmy is more shaken up than anyone else. 

Edward glares at him. "I swear, Timmy. If you fuckin' piss yourself in my office, money isn't the only thing you'll owe me."

Louis has got a thousand green bills down, uncreasing the paper and creating neat piles with deft movements. He feels Edward's hands on his waist and has grown so accustommed to the man's need for them to be in constant contact that it hardly deters him. 

"Eric, come get this idiot." Edward barks at the speaker on his desk. "He's got a week more."

"Okay, Boss." Comes the rustle and voice through the receiver.

Timmy is not so gently escorted out of Edward's office and the door is shut after Eric shoved him out by the scruff of his neck. Louis is down to five thousand by this point and Edward knows he is far more observant than ignorant.

"Why was he so scared?" Louis' concentration doesn't falter; not for his own question or Edward's calloused palms on his thighs. 

The man sighs heavily and kisses Louis' shoulder. "You could throw a rock in a room and that ass would get scared."

Louis is finished counting and presents Edward with ten thousand in cold cash. He isn't doubted for a second and Edward gathers the cash before tucking it into a locked drawer. Normally, his money counters get a commission but Louis doesn't need money if he's being provided for by the lavish triplets.

"There's one more out here, Boss." Eric's voice comes through the speaker and Louis giggles at Edward's frustrated groan.

"Are you laughing at me, princess?" Edward's eyebrow quirks challengingly at Louis' amusement. He jabs the button in the speaker. "Wait for ten minutes."

Louis chews the inside of his cheek when his heart jackrabbits in his chest, gasping when Edward takes full advantage of cupping his bum. He whimpers from the careless kneading of his posterior and finally feels Edward's mouth on his neck. 

A set of lips soothe the burn ignited by Edward's teeth that latched onto Louis' skin. He sucked harshly on the supple skin and pinned Louis' wrists down to keep the boy from squirming. He rotated the duty of drawing blood to the surface of Louis' skin between his teeth and lips, listening to his boy's flow of whimpers. 

_"Daddy."_ Louis' fingernails were scraping Edward's knuckles where their fingers were forcefully laced together. 

Edward moaned to signal his acknowledgement but he knew his way around Louis' body. He knew the vibrations he sent ricocheting through the boy's insides was enough to make him pliant.

He finally pulled off Louis' neck when he felt the bruise was sufficiently maroon, going on purple. "You need to remember who's in charge, baby. Can you do that?"

Louis whined and couldn't move his body away because Edward had the back of his neck cradled. "Sorry, Daddy."

"You're forgiven, princess. You're also lucky I didn't choose to spank you right here." Edward trailed his fingertip over Louis' newest mark. The boy shivered. 

"You would have?" Louis had both hands on Edward's abs through his shirt and peered up at his dominant boyfriend through his wildly feminine lashes. 

Edward's knuckles turned white with restraint where he fisted the sides of Louis' shirt. "I don't make idle threats, princess. Now, I believe a penalty is in order."

Louis' thin pink lips got a little rounded as he struggled to gather his thoughts. He sneaked his hands up past Edward's shoulders and brought their faces closer. "Penalty?"

"Hmm." Edward united their lips for a heartbeat. "You'll see what it is when we get home."

A song got louder from the club and seeped through Edward's tinted glass walls to reach their ears. Louis settled down on the man's lap and tucked his face into Edward's neck, the skin of his neck glistening with Edward's attack at the same time that it throbs.

"We've got about three minutes left before Eric sends the last one in so-" Edward takes Louis' hand in his and gives it a light squeeze. "-are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold?"

"No, no." Louis laughs and wiggles to right his posture, sitting on Edward's thigh with his arm draped around the man's neck. He courageously pecks his boyfriend's cheek. "Do you want something?"

Edward chuckles and squeezes Louis' knee, tilting his head back to kiss Louis. "I've got everything, baby. Thank you for asking."

"Boss?" Eric's voice breaks their trance and Louis watches Edward retrieve his phone. "Can I send the last one in?"

"Yeah." Edward clears his throat and hands Louis his iPhone, returning to the emotionless ringleader he was at work.

"What do I do, Daddy?" Louis asked, puzzled as to why Edward gave it to him.

"Marcel asked that I let you speak to him once tonight." Edward answered smoothly, trailing his knuckles down Louis' hip. "He considers it his birthday present."

"Oh." Louis sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth. 

He unlocks Edward's phone with a quick swipe and searches through the contacts for Marcel's number. The door to Edward's office peels open on plush carpet and in walks yet another stranger that Louis hopes to pretend isn't there. He doesn't fancy the reality that so many people are in the same room as he, taking note of his ignorance.

"Have a seat, Nathaniel." Edward gestures to the cushioned seat across from him and straightens up. 

Louis sees that Marcel has already sent Edward an innumerable amount of texts concerning him. He pouts a little at seeing so many. 

**Marcel:** Edward.

 **Marcel:** Edward, you jerk.

 **Marcel:** Don't be an ass. You promised.

Rather than wasting any more seconds, Louis shoots off a text in reply to Marcel. 

**You:** Hi :)

The reply is instant. Louis is a little surprised to get such a quick response especially considering it's nearing eleven already. 

**Marcel:** Babydoll?

 **You:** Edward said you were missing me.

 **Marcel:** Of course I am, love. Are you safe?

 **You:** As safe as can be. And are you safe?

 **Marcel:** I'm safe, babydoll. However, I miss you.

 **You:** I miss you too. Is Harry safe?

 **Marcel:** He's safe as well, baby. He's happy you asked about him.

Before Louis can type another word to his answer, Edward's phone goes black so that Harry's caller identification pops up on the screen. Louis' heart skips a beat as he recognises the background image obviously taken at a candid moment and stares at the incoming call. 

"Nathaniel, I don't pardon those-" Edward was midsentence when he saw it too. He hardly missed a beat before rejecting the call for Louis and carrying on. "I don't pardon those who cheat. Especially in a game run by me."

 **Marcel:** Louis?

 **Marcel:** Lou, did Harry call you?

 **Marcel:** I'm sorry, babydoll. I told him not to.

Louis replies with slightly shaky fingers. He leans a little more into Edward's chest such that half his face is hidden against the man's torso. Edward held him tighter subconsciously. Furthermore, he takes the phone from Louis and tucks it into his pocket so the boy doesn't receive anymore surprises. He cradles Louis possessively in his lap and against his chest.

"Nathaniel, I want you to walk outside and tell Eric what you told me. See what he does." Edward gestures to the door with a sudden hint of cold dismissal. "Get out."

Edward waits for no time so that Nathaniel can leave their close vicinity before pulling Louis closer, framing the boy's face in both hands. He searches Louis' doubtful blues and kisses those sweet pink lips.

"You okay, princess?" Edward asks softly, voice husky and silky. "Why was he calling?"

Louis shrugs innocently and let's his hands find purchase on Edward's shoulders. He closes his eyes and feels a gentle kiss on both eyelids. "Daddy."

"Do you want to go home?" Edward brushed Louis' hair back and embraced his slender waist tightly. "Are you tired, princess?"

Louis let his elbows sit on Edward's shoulders and pressed their foreheads together. Eyes closed, a smile formed on his lips when Edward's kiss landed on his cheek. "Not tired."

"No?" Edward kissed the other cheek and bumped their noses together. "Come on, baby. Let me see those blues."

"Wanna sleep." Louis yawned and his head fell into the crook of Edward's neck. He yawned again and curled one hand into the fabric of Edward's shirt. "Home?"

Edward kissed his temple. "Home, baby."

  
* * * * *  


It was no surprise that Louis fell asleep under Edward's jacket on the way home. He hardly moved more than to sniffle and yawn when they pulled up in the Styles Mansion garage, where Edward lifted him gingerly from his seat. Louis stayed asleep while he was carried upstairs and into Edward's room, the mansion dead silent otherwise.

Edward lay Louis down under the covers and stripped the boy down carefully down to his most comfortable undergarments. Louis instantly rolled onto his side, forming a tiny ball under the silk sheets as he squashed Edward's emperor's pillow to his chest. 

After undoing the button on his jeans and removing any excess jewellery, Edward strolled into the bathroom. He washed his arms and face with freezing cold water, avoiding the mirror at all costs. Water dripped down his neck and biceps but he toweled the excess moisture off before any damage was done to his clothing. 

In boxer briefs and a vest, Edward climbed into bed in front of Louis. The boy was easily tucked in against him, an arm over Louis' hip and the other guarding his head. 

"Sweet dreams, princess." Edward kissed behind Louis' ear.

  
* * * * *  


Morning crept through the curtains and Harry woke up in his own bed but he wasn't alone.

He glanced over at the sleeping form beside him and muttered a curse when he saw that it was Clover. Unkindly and without manners, Harry nudges her continually until she awakens. Her groggy form is covered in clothing - he is grateful - and her hair is worse than his.

"What?" She rubs her eyes and swats him with a pillow, blocking out the sunlight. "Fuck off, Harry."

"You need to leave." He wakes up from his side of the bed with a sniff and brushes through his hair with his fingers. "Right now, Clover."

"Fine, fine." She throws the covers back and hunts for her boots under Harry's bed. "Think we did anything last night?"

Harry is in his bathroom at this point, examining his blotchy skin under a harsh light and stretching his stiff back. He really needs one of Louis' massages again. "No, Clover."

"Me too." She comes bustling into his bathroom and pushes him aside. "You're so fucking big. Move."

If he weren't half asleep, Harry might have defended himself. Instead, he let Clover neaten herself up so she miraculously didn't look at all like an alien life form. She tied her hair up and splashed water onto her face, shrugging on her jacket by the door.

"Anyone on the other side of this door going to give me a hard time?" She enquires casually, checking for her keys and phone.

"Don't think so." Harry sat on the foot of his bed and tried to get the hazy vision out of his mind.

"Good. And hey!" Clover throws something that hits Harry square in the chest. He looks up with a deathly glare but Clover doesn't care. "Take care of your boy. Stop being a jackass."

The advice stings more than it should because Harry realises that he really was in the wrong. He says nothing on the matter until he's contemplated his consequences. Clover doesn't need an escort out but Harry at least sees her into the hallway where she can go on without him. 

Harry watches her jog down the steps heading for the door, already on her phone texting someone for a ride. He's ready to shuffle back into his room for a silent hour or two, when turning left meant watching Louis step out of Edward's room. The boy hasn't seen him yet because he's got a phone in his hands and is still very sleepy in one notoriously familiar T-shirt.

Louis is sniffling and yawning while directing his steps toward the staircase. He has Harry spellbound with how beautiful one person can be at such an early hour. Harry doesn't want to disturb the scene, wants to remain a silent bystander to Louis' angelic nature.

Harry just about opens his mouth to say _something_ because he can't let this moment pass. He has an apology lined up and his kneeling pleas.

  
* * * * *  


Edward woke up and Louis wasn't with him. He immediately broke into a worried fit that was soon soothed by the soft click of his bedroom door. Without thought and being partially blinded by waking up so suddenly, Edward shuffles to the door and swings it open.

"Princess?" He has one eye cracked open and his voice feels like the birth of claws coming out of his dry throat. "What are you doin', baby?"

Louis' figure was vaguely in front of him and the boy hurried back from the staircase railing. Harry retired to his room after seeing his older brother, knowing that there isn't a chance in Hell that he has now. 

"Was going to make breakfast." Louis told Edward, stretching up on his tiptoes to frame his towering boyfriend's jawline. 

"Hmm." Edward took Louis' waist in the embrace of his arms and nuzzles the boy's neck. "So early?"

"I wanted to surprise you." Louis tugs on Edward's chocolate brown locks and kisses Edward's cheek. "I was just going to the kitchen, Daddy."

"Alright." Edward's lips searched and found Louis' so he could have his kiss. "Go and make the quickest thing."

"No!" Louis gasped in outrage. He kisses Edward's cold nose and squeaks when his bum is unceremoniously pinched. "Daddy."

"What, princess?" Edward's powerful green orbs were on full blast and so were his charming pair of dimples, a smirk marking his porcelain features. "This is mine too."

  
* * * * *  


Louis walked into the kitchen that's recently scrubbed clean with crisp detergent and finds Marcel already by the stove. He had received a text asking him to sneak off to the kitchen so that they could make breakfast together, an offer Louis couldn't refuse.

"Good morning, babydoll." Marcel hugs Louis with one arm and kisses his forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." Louis can't seem to free himself so he stops trying. He sighs a little tiredly and leans into Marcel's side. "Did _you_ sleep well?"

Marcel hums, a smirk tugging on his lips. "Must admit I could have slept better, babydoll."

Louis smiles and looks around him on the counters and kitchen island for the ingredients to their breakfast. By what he can gather, it's going to be a remarkable amount of blueberry pancakes. Marcel's arm slips lower on his waist so this his hand sits on the boy's hip.

"Marcel." Louis fusses with the restriction on his waist. He wants to get started on mixing the batter. "What are we making?"

"Pancakes." Marcel supplies coolly, pinching Louis' hip. "Why don't you get started on the tea, babydoll?"

"Okay." Louis absentmindedly kisses Marcel's pectoral and walks away to the kettle. "What kind of tea do you like?"

"Green." Marcel answers from his shift to the kitchen island. He pulls out the flour and blueberries from the fridge, gathering miscellaneous utensils. "What tea do you like, babydoll?"

Louis is chewing his lip and filling water into the kettle. "Um- Rooibos."

Marcel made a sufficiently appropriate of batter while Louis fills two mugs after the water has boiled. He goes on the hunt for teabags and discovers his target at the top of a cabinet's shelf. His companion is busy with the frying pan and batter, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"Marcel?" Louis saunters up to the man's side and lowers his voice. "I can't reach the tea."

"Oh?" The man sniffs and acts nonchalantly when he lowers the stove temperature to help Louis. "Would you like some help?"

Louis leads him to the cabinet with the teabags and looks at the object longingly. "Ple- Marcel!"

"Hmm, babydoll?" He answers from nearly underneath the boy.

Marcel had lifted Louis off the ground with both hands securing the boy's hips. Louis squealed and squirmed in Marcel's grip but got nowhere with that, his thigh resting on Marcel's shoulder as he grew closer to the teabags. 

"Didn't you have a purpose, babydoll?" Marcel reminds him with a small pinch to the boy's behind.

Louis grabbed the tins of teabags and got lowered back to the ground, his arms locked around Marcel's shoulders as gravity took over. His hesitant gaze met Marcel's amused glimmer and pouts intentionally to guilt the man. 

"Oh love." Marcel cooes at the sweet boy while hiking those warm, supple thighs over his hips. "Did I offend you, my babydoll?"

"Maybe." Louis put the teabags down and giggled at incessent kisses trailing up the side of his neck. "I need to make the tea, Da- Marcel."

"Hmm." He hums and takes a moment to dip the boy so that Louis is left in abrupt laughter, crinkles at his eyes and a sight for sore eyes. "Maybe we can stall for a moment longer."

Against his back, Marcel fists the fabric of Louis' shirt to keep a steady grip and presses his forehead to the boy's clavicle. Marcel waits for two breaths before righting Louis and himself, having to look up because he's got the boy held higher.

"This breakfast is never going to get done." Marcel says with a sigh, unable to let Louis go from the cage of his arms.

"It will." Louis taps Marcel's nose with his finger and pecks his cheek. "You have to put me down first."

"Absolutely not." Marcel smacks a kiss onto Louis' cheek and grins when he elicits laughter from the boy. 

Breakfast was close to complete at around ten in the morrning when the Styles housekeeper came around to handle their laundry. Marcel turned on the radio to have some sound fill their comfortable silence, cheerily greeting the aged maid when she happened by them. 

Louis sat on the counter and turned to giggle when Marcel swiped the laundry basket from Mrs. Stella's hands. Trying to make her dance with him was accomplished with far more difficulty. His jovial personality was not underappreciated when the kind lady made him follow her down to the laundry room. 

"She made me handle my own whites." Marcel returns after Louis' already plated the toasted waffles and pancakes, an eternal amused twinkle in his eye.

"Your fault." Louis sipped from his mug of tea and batted away the arms aiming for his hips. "Time to eat."

Mrs. Stella was coming back up from the basement at that moment and Marcel asked her to call his brothers down for breakfast. Louis felt his heart leap hurtfully into his throat at the mention of Harry, both eager and terrified. He just about crossed his legs on an oddly tall barstool when Marcel sat beside him.

"So, babydoll-" The man angled Louis' chair to face him, breaking a cookie in half for them to share. "-tell me something I don't know about you."

Louis raised his eyebrow suspiciously and took a moderate bite of the cookie. "I like green apples."

"Really? I've always been a red apple man." Marcel says casually, letting Louis' legs rest across his lap. 

Interrupting footsteps were descending the staircase and Marcel woke up to soften the volume on the radio. Edward came around the corner and Louis will admit to being slightly disappointed when Harry didn't show. Guiltily, he chewed his lip all through breakfast while continually glancing at the barren staircase.

Edward noticed Louis' behaviour quicker and smiled. He squeezed the boy's thigh before leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Go on then, baby."

Louis took a plate of breakfast with him now that he's free to go. Two waffles drenched in syrup and blueberries in each cavity. He hurried up the steps and came to the intimidating white bedroom door, knocking twice before anyone answers.

Harry looks perpetually exhausted. He pulls back the door with bags under his eyes and shaggy hair, surprise making the dull green of his eyes a little brighter. His bare chest had only his signature cross necklace and tattoos to clothe it, sweatpants hanging low.

"Kitten." Harry doesn't seem to believe his sight. "What are you doing here?"

"U-Um...-" Louis thinks of something to say and remembers the plate in his hand. He thrusts it forward. "This is for you."

"Thank you." Harry's smile is dead and hardly grazes his eyes. He accepts the offering silently. 

Louis knows this is the time for him to say something, if anything at all. Then he _happens_ to look behind him and sees the most perculiar thing. "Why did you pack your bags?"

Three suitcases lay gaping on Harry's bed, clothes of all sorts strewn about them. A lonesome duffel bag was dropped onto the man's desk as well, already brimming with content. The sight was enough to make Louis' chest tighten, his mind race. 

Harry seemed to just remember and set the plate down somewhere, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm leaving, kitten."

Louis felt something in him go cold, broken. "W-What? Why?"

Rather than having this conversation where unwanted ears could hear, Harry brought Louis into him room with a gentlemanly gesture. He shut the door and turned to face the deeply troubled boy.

"I've made a decision." Harry cleared his throat. It didn't take a genius to realise how this hurt him to say as well. "I need to go away for some time to sort things out. It won't be for long, kitten. If I don't do this, I'll just ruin any chance I have with you."

Louis shakes his head fervently. "You don't have to go. I'm not-"

"No." Harry dismissed Louis' forgiveness. "You can't forgive the way I behaved. I can't treat you that way. When I get back, you won't have to worry about that anymore."

"But-" Louis crossed his ankles and looked to the floor. "-why can't you stay here?"

"Because, kitten-" Harry has enough feeling to crack a wry smile. "-if I'm near you, all I'll want is to be with you. When I let that feeling win, I only ended up hurting you. I refuse to allow myself to do that to you."

Louis looked at him, heartbroken. All the oceans in all the worlds could experience storms and none will ever be as devestating as what Harry saw in Louis' eyes.

"Hey. Hey now, kitten." Harry saw those blue, blue eyes fill with something stressful and _pained_. He surged forward and framed Louis' face, bringing their faces closer. "Don't ever be sad, kitten. Never."

Louis opened his mouth to say something but his eyes were stinging and his nails were digging into Harry's wrists. He pleaded with his earnest gaze. "Don't go."

"I have to, angel." Harry moved his arms to encircle Louis' narrow shoulders and embrace the boy. He placed a kiss on the top of the boy's head and felt Louis' hands fist at his sides. "It'll only be for a short while. I'll come right back when I know I can prove myself."

Harry wanted to leave as soon as he could but Louis didn't so naturally when he tried to help Harry pack, all he did was make things worse. After twenty minutes, the man figured out what he was doing and sat Louis down on his desk. He kissed Louis' forehead and felt a small shiver. 

"You're my kitten, baby." He whispered, strangled voice and curled fists. "Always."

Edward was not the one to display any emotion when Harry told his brothers. He nodded tersely and made sure his departing sibling had everything he'd need. Marcel hugged his brother without hesitation and kissed the top of his head. 

"Where are you going?" Marcel asked him, only to have Harry shake his head and move away. That will be his secret.

Edward handed Harry a set of keys for their best Jeep. He looked his brother in the eye impassively until Louis saw something flicker across his gaze. "Don't scratch my car."

Harry smiled with a dry edge to his chuckle and nodded. He looked at Louis last where the boy was partiallly hidden by Marcel's side. In no time there was a body wrapped around him and one he held onto for dear life. He took Louis' hand off his back at the last moment, a piece of paper slipping from his possession to Louis'. 

Harry was gone ten minutes later and Louis hasn't been able to take a full breath since. He held the crumbled piece of paper in his shaking fist, terrified to open it. Marcel was with him in the living room, lost in his mind while he laid his head on Louis' lap. Edward had to leave right after Harry, gone in for work after Eric called him. 

"What's that?" Marcel enquired when Louis found himself to be brave enough to reveal the secret note.

Louis didn't know. He swallowed his starving heart and unfolded it. Harry's remarkably eloquent writing, cursive like Edward's and hastened like Marcel's. Yet he always had an extra lilt that was just his own.

_You're my kitten, baby. Always._


	20. TWENTY.

**_[A/N: Grrr What are your thoughts on what might happen? - S xx]_ **

Louis has been lost to his own imagination for close to ten hours. He responded in monosyllables and smiled to reassure the Styles talking to him that he was okay. Marcel was the one to hold him while they watched old kung fu movies together, before Edward came home. 

"Are you hungry, babydoll?" Marcel kissed the top of Louis' head and tightened his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"No." Louis yawned even though he slept on Marcel for three hours just prior to this conversation. 

"We can go out." Marcel proposed with a faint smile of his own. He brushed up and down the length of Louis' arm. "Anything you want to do, babydoll."

Louis looks at the man he's facing with a wry smile and reaches up to trace over Marcel's bulging bicep. "Is it....okay if I don't want to do anything?"

"Of course." Marcel curls his arm more securely around his counterpart. 

"Cause I don't wanna do anything." Louis balls himself up against Marcel's chest and hides himself. 

"Alright, alright." Marcel silently promises not to question the boy's judgment by rubbing his arched back and kissing his cheek. "How about a light lunch? You need to eat, babydoll."

"Not hungry." Louis mumbles into the juncture of Marcel's neck. He's already slipping back under a blanket of slumber.

"No excuses." Marcel wakes up even after Louis fusses and smashes his face into a cushion. "Come on, babydoll."

Louis refuses to move and forces Marcel's hand. He picks the boy up until he's squirming and protesting verbally, trying to free himself from Marcel's fireman's carry. The man doesn't relent and keeps him hoisted all the way to the kitchen.

"You need fresh air." Marcel secures Louis' face in his hands when the boy tries sneaking off. He looks into those piercing blue eyes that have seemingly lost some of their vigour, a third of it.

Louis chews on his bottom lip and reluctantly nods in acquiescence. He let Marcel kiss his forehead and smiled a little more genuinely, the corners of his mouth twitching amusedly. After getting comfortable on his stool by crossing his legs, Louis starts to think about things other than the little note burning a hole in his pocket.

"Salad?" Marcel rummages through the refrigerator and comes up with decent enough ingredients for a chicken Caesar salad. 

Louis' nose scrunches up at the thought of all that green but shrugs anyway. "I like salad."

Marcel chuckles half-heartedly and sets about readying a colander. He watches Louis through the corner of his eye, both making sure the boy doesn't run off and ensuring that he doesn't get too sucked into his own mind. He sighs and picks up their remaining feta cheese, discreetly dumping it in the trash.

"We're out of feta." Marcel clears his throat and swipes a random set of car keys off the kitchen island. "Wanna go with me to the store?"

Louis is about to shake his head when he realises it can't be any worse than staying indoors and being upset. He nods reluctantly and accepts Marcel's help in hopping down from the stool, gripping the man's hand in his tightly. He slips on a pair of shoes at the door and follows closely behind when Marcel leads him outside.

They take the Jeep that Marcel likes most and Louis is not all that fond of needing to climb into his seat. The open top leaves him prone to the cool breeze that flows around him, peeling off broken chips of his sadness. He's given a random pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment that protects his sensitive, watery eyes.

"Radio, babydoll?" Marcel asks before he can switch it on. All the brothers know that Louis isn't _always_ a fan of having the radio on while they drive.

Louis nods and shrugs, convincing Marcel of his emotional stability with a shaky smile. He looks out the window with his hand grasped firmly in Marcel's, a component that the breeze cannot sweep away.

At the store, Marcel is kind enough to not only open Louis' door but also help him onto the ground. There's a moment when Marcel allows his juvenile instincts to flare and perches Louis on his back, keeping the boy secured by his hands on Louis' thighs.

"What are you doing?" Louis wraps his arms around Marcel's neck, afraid of falling backward.

"You need to smile, babydoll." Marcel angles his head and pecks Louis' cheek. "I intend to bring that out."

"By carrying me?" Louis doesn't object when he crosses his ankles at Marcel's front and rests his chin on the latter's shoulder. 

"Yes." Marcel hands Louis the key and let's him keep it before beginning the trek into the icy supermarket's innards. "Are we just getting feta cheese?"

Eyes pass over them and some linger, societal judgement or praise for being out of the norm. Louis feels them all on his back and his recently demoted security leaves him feeling vulnerable. Marcel is here though and he tightens up a bit around the man holding him up, feeling at home in such an embrace.

"Yeah." Louis sniffs when they've stepped into the refrigerator isles. 

"Are we sure?" Marcel has picked a bright purple basket off the rack and let's Louis hold it. He studies the choice of cheese while Louis deliberates. 

Louis chews his lip. "Maybe." 

A smile edges onto Marcel's features as he dumps the correct cheese into their basket and furthers his path down the dairy isle. "Chocolate milk?"

"No." Louis eyes all the flavoured milk options, brightening for the first second when he picks the right one. "Strawberry please."

Feeling accomplished, his companion picks one of the branded strawberry milk cartons off the shelf. They venture into the confectionery isle and Louis' mind drifts further away from his heartache. Marcel gets him to commit to several chocolate bars, some gummy bears and a pack of marshmallows.

"What about dinner?" Marcel mentally circulates the meal options in his head. "Spaghetti?"

After Louis' consent, Marcel picks up the ingredients for a fresh spaghetti dish. He carries Louis all the way to the cashiers and only sets him down when there's the need to pull out his wallet. Louis picks up one of the bags - the lighter one - while he waits, and does everything he can to stay focused on the present moment. 

"You know what?" Marcel dumps all the grocery bags into the Jeep's trunk but turns to face Louis with a new resolution. "How about I take you out, babydoll?"

Louis fishmouths barely for a few moments, his magnificent blue eyes becoming wrecked with indecision. "Okay."

Marcel breathes a relieved exhale, and his heart stops thundering like a champion racehorse. He hadn't realised how _nervous_ he was. "Great. Uh- We'll go back to the house and get changed-"

"We can go like this." Louis gestured meekly to their current attire, that was only inappropriate for the finest of establishments. 

"Alright then." Marcel pulls out his phone after getting an idea. He opens Louis' door for him and let's the boy get in, freezing over when he receives a kiss on his cheek. 

Marcel recovers himself and speaks in hushed tones to a friend over the phone. He organises a late night visit to one amusement park that closes early, a treat for just him and Louis. To cover that time Marcel organises an impromptu picnic at a drive-in cinema by pulling out all the favours he ever gained.

"Ready to go?" He hops into the vehicle and shoves the key into its ignition, glancing over at Louis in the passenger seat.

"Where are we going?" Louis enquires. He's put his new phone away and crosses his legs on the seat.

Marcel winks at him in a secretive manner that makes Louis pout. "That's a surprise for you, babydoll."

"I don't like surprises." Louis sees Marcel's hand laying jobless on the leather console and connects his to it. "They scare me."

"Oh?" Marcel indulges Louis' tactics but he won't say until the end. "I think you'll love this surprise."

Louis spends the entire twenty minute drive looking at everything they pass, trying to ascertain what attractions lay in these areas. He is stumped by the time they reach a dusty drive-in at an hour that's almost late afternoon. There aren't any other cars here and the giant screen is blank with a countdown sequence on it. Marcel presses the hooter on the Jeep to thank the attendant in a small booth behind them.

"Do you like this surprise?" Marcel unbuckles his seatbelt and turns on the radio, allowing a static flickering to enter their haven.

Enthralled, Louis grins at his companion and jumps from fright when there's a knock on his window. An unfamiliar man in an apron stands just outside, a kind smile beneath his handlebar moustache.

"Open the window, love." Marcel instructs distractedly as he cuts off the engine, and Louis rolls down the glass pane carefully. "Hey, Paul."

"Afternoon, M." The handlebar moustache man has a woven picnic basket with the entirely cliché plaid cloth popping out at the corners and rustic feel. "For you."

"Thanks." Marcel takes the basket and sets it down in the back-seat. 

He chats for a bit politely with the stranger before they're left alone again, and Louis gets an assortment of delicious aromas from their newly acquired basket. Marcel rolls up the windows and turns the AC on to a temperature that is moderately warm.

"Get in the back with me, babydoll." Marcel sweetly requests, allowing Louis to go first before manoeuvring himself. 

They settle down in the back leather seat. Marcel pulls off the blanket from the top of the picnic basket and drapes it over them, conveniently folding the fabric so it's shorter in length. Louis has to sidle up next to him and is more than happy to do so, fitting himself under Marcel's protective arm.

"Comfortable?" Marcel curls his arm around Louis' neck so he's tucked in close, their bodies moulded perfectly.

Louis kicks off his shoes and folds his legs on the seat, his knees resting on Marcel's lap. He hums with his hand hanging off the front of Marcel's shirt. "What are we watching?"

Marcel makes no attempts at bringing Louis onto his lap. He's too terrified of being rejected after pushing too far. Louis' mind is off Harry's departure and so is his, which is all he aimed for today. Louis stretched out a bit so that his face was hidden in Marcel's neck, the warmth of skin on skin making for an epic comfort.

"Jaws." Marcel answers when he remembers that there was a question. He rubs Louis' back and kisses the top of his head. "That okay?"

"I like Jaws." Louis answers softly. He fidgets with the top button of Marcel's shirt. "Thank you for taking me out."

"You're welcome, babydoll." Marcel smiles against the boy's forehead. "It's a privilege to take you out."

The movie starts soon after Marcel texted the booth operator and he got out some snacks from the picnic basket. He was surprised himself at Paul's dedication towards pulling together such an elaborate array of foods. Chicken salad, bottled juices, little finger sandwiches. Louis giggled at the sight of chocolate covered strawberries.

"What?" Marcel raised his eyebrow and questioned Louis' amusement.

Louis looked at him briefly with a lopsided smile, his cheeks coloured a subtle pink. "Every picnic has to have chocolate covered strawberries."

"Of course it does." Marcel picks one out of the tray and taps Louis' lips with the base. "Open up, babydoll."

Louis not so shyly takes a bite off the pointed end before licking the cracked chocolate off his lips. The taste explodes in his mouth, sour and sweet in a delightful mix. Marcel pops the rest of the fruit into his own mouth so he can cuddle Louis further.

"Yummy." Louis blushes into the crook of Marcel's neck. 

"Yeah? Want another?" Marcel picks another strawberry up out of the container and feeds it to Louis. 

The Jaws opening credits begin and Louis' attention is drawn to the screen, a familiar soundtrack filling the interior of Marcel's Jeep. They lie lazily in the back-seat, nibbling on odd snacks and sipping from carbonated water while the first few people drown or get eaten. Louis creeps closer to Marcel subconsciously, his body curling up into a sufficient ball so he be cradled in the man's lap.

Marcel doesn't utter a word about it. He merely pecks Louis' lips when the boy turns his way, and tightens the blanket around them.

"Have you ever seen a shark in real life?" Louis asks when one of the lesser enthralling scenes begins. 

"Yes." Marcel's hand is on Louis' lower back, a very present and heavy weight. "Have you?"

"Nope." Louis laughs mutely and sets his cheek on Marcel's shoulder. "They're scary."

"I'll take you scuba diving sometime." Marcel replies, sinking down a bit more into his slouch. "Will you come with me, babydoll?"

Louis is picking at one loose thread on Marcel's empty shirt pocket. "Yes Daddy."

Louis realises what he's said without reservation and wants so desperately to hide under a rock. He curls into himself and whimpers at the back of his mind when Marcel's arms tighten considerably around him. The man doesn't reject him, but Louis has to be sure.

"I'm sorry." He whispers apologetically into the man's chest, slight shivers travelling through his system. 

"Hush, babydoll. It's alright." Marcel brushes through Louis' hair with his fingertips and kisses his blushing cheek.

"I-I didn't mean to say it." Louis mumbles miserably, biting his bottom lip to stop it from quivering in anxiety.

"Hey now." Marcel hooks Louis' chin between his forefinger and thumb, making those marvellous blue crystals look up at him. "I don't call you _babydoll_ for nothing, love."

Louis gasps under his breath, damp lips parted and angelic eyes laser focused on his companion. He swallows a small whine with the nervous lump in his throat, Marcel's cold fingertips grazing his pulse. Blood simmered in his veins and he inched closer to the man.

"You....-" Louis licks his sticky sweet lips and sits up straighter, his back arched a bit as his face neared Marcel's. He was _hoping_ with each deafening thump of his heart. "You don't mind it?"

Marcel smiled reassuringly and caught onto Louis' hips to hoist him a bit higher. The boy's small but firm hands grip his shoulders to move easily, settling on Marcel's lap. He can face the man more clearly, his legs astride Marcel's thighs. His chest feels a little tight and Marcel's arms encircle his waist. 

"Babydoll." Marcel reaches up to cradle Louis' cheek, thumbing over the skin just below the boy's breathtaking blue eyes. He makes sure Louis can see the earnest deprivation his mind possesses when he speaks. "I grew up with two domineering and often narcissistic twin brothers. The last thing I ever felt was in charge and now, you volunteer to give that to me. How can I deny you?"

Louis' cheeks become dusted in a humbling red blush and he leans closer to Marcel, faltering in his posture when the holds him close. His bottom lip is a little swollen after being captive to his teeth, and Marcel's thumb brushes over that bright pink cushion. He rests his forehead on Louis' and smirks when the latter giggles, full of endearment.

Marcel secures the side of Louis' face and brings his lips closer to the boy's. "Can I have a kiss, babydoll?"

With a tiny bout of laughter, Louis connects their lips and smiles into the kiss. Marcel's teeth nip at his tongue when it peeks out between his front teeth. He parts his lips a bit and Marcel's tongue enters his system, massaging his own muscle in its efforts to taste all of him. 

Louis can sense the man's reservations in how far is too much. He can't have his Daddy uncomfortable and therefore straightens up on his lap, running his hands up to Marcel's curls. His fingers are buried in Marcel's hair and he moves to deepen their kiss, moaning when Marcel groans from an internal struggle. Fingers tighten on his hips and his body is dragged forward, their fronts colliding effortlessly.

Marcel's hands sneak around Louis' back and settle discreetly on the skin peeking out from _just above_ Louis' posterior. His brow furrows in concentration as he takes Louis along with him into another world, nibbling on the boy's lips. He distracts Louis that way, gains access to his mouth where he tastes like strawberries and chocolate. 

Louis' fingers curl almost possessively around his neck as he angles his body to be easier cradled. His tongue swipes across Marcel's in a tempting dual that targets the man, provokes him to disallow Louis moving away.

"Gonna lay you down, babydoll." Marcel breathes harshly through his nose, punctuating each word with a kiss. "May I?"

Nodding profusely, Louis navigates a short path for himself onto the seat. He lies on his back and draws Marcel up between his legs, kicking the empty containers to the floor of the Jeep. Marcel's arms falter none as they stretch out between their bodies, digging into the seat.

"Daddy." Louis babbles when Marcel's mouth finds its way to his neck, sucking bruises into his skin. "Daddy, please."

"I'm listening, babydoll." Marcel rasps from where he's working on a bright red mark just on Louis' pulse. He tugs on the frail skin between his teeth and suckles on the selected spot until its the only thing he can see. "What do you want?"

"Let me- Wanna-" Louis battles with his own thoughts so it settles down. He pants brokenly with an uncomfortable inflation in his underwear. "Can I _taste_ you?"

Marcel pauses with the throbbing skin just under his tongue, sore flesh his prisoner. He's just as desperate as Louis is to be intimate, to be together even as their individual selves. "You want to, babydoll?"

Louis nods vigorously again, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as he hops onto the prospect of being allowed to exchange the favour. "Please, Daddy."

Marcel is helpless. He raises his head a bit and hovers above Louis with engorged intent and a thirst. "Have you done it before, babydoll? You won't hurt yourself?"

"No, Daddy." Louis shakes his head when Marcel's forefinger caresses his chin, coaxing him into responding.

"No to which part?" Marcel hums, resting on his elbows. He nuzzles Louis' neck aggressively in a way that tickles and irritates Louis' bruised skin. 

Louis chews his lip that doesn't taste like his own. He laces his fingers through Marcel's curls and smiles into their next kiss, ending in one that's languid and pleasureful. Marcel's skin ripples with muscle beneath his fingertips, eliciting moans from him. 

"I haven't.....-" Louis wraps his arms around Marcel's neck and gasps when he's smothered with more kisses, on his forehead and cheek before moving to silence his lips. "I haven't done it before."

"Oh?" Marcel pushes himself up and Louis goes with him. "Then why do you want to do it now, angel?"

Louis blushes even brighter when he gets hauled onto Marcel's lap. He can't help but partially block his face when he hugs his knees to his chest. "Wanna try."

"That's fine, babydoll. It's okay." Marcel comfortingly rubs Louis' sides and kneads the skin of his hips. He smiles when Louis comes out of hiding, bending over for a modest kiss. 

"Really?" Louis' hand shook with nerves and his skin turned icy cold along with it, a drastic contrast to the heat of his blood. 

He lowered his palm to Marcel's crotch but distracted the man's reaction with a blinding kiss. Marcel responds with a pleasured groan, mixed with his confusion. He grips Louis' bottom through his jeans and opens up for their kiss, drowning in their fused affection for one another.

Louis whimpers not only from the harsh nip to his upper lip, to Marcel's teeth digging into it. He digs the heel of his palm into the bulge cupped in his hand, and submissively sucks the invasive tongue into his mouth. Marcel's hips struggle in restraint when Louis' hand causes friction for him, moving up and down in torturously slow motions.

"Babydoll." Marcel pants through his words and tugs on Louis' lips, shifting to nip at the boy's earlobe. He tilted his hips upward for more of Louis' focus. "Come on, baby."

Louis wrapped his free arm around Marcel's neck and buried his face in the man's throat. He closed his eyes and let his body feel the sensations that spawned from Marcel groping his bum. His fingers twitched as the impressive length beneath them inflated, curling around the thick girth through Marcel's jeans.

"Daddy." Louis whines in Marcel's ear. He jerks with Marcel's body and his jaw falls slack, frozen in a pleasured cry. 

Marcel curses under his breath when both Louis' hands reach down between them, to unzip and unbutton his jeans. "Fuck, baby. Eager, aren't we?"

Louis nods vehemently and licks his lips. He looks down on Marcel's lap as the Calvin Klein's came into view. His own pants were too tight, his underwear tented from his own arousal. Marcel sat back and let Louis pull down his jeans a bit, a cold hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers.

"What's the hurry, baby?" Marcel plants open-mouthed kisses along Louis' collarbone. 

Louis apologises with a kiss again, his hand on Marcel's neck and wounding the man's lips with how hungry the kiss is. It's a whole new persona of the boy that Marcel is entirely addicted to, obsessed with even. He had no idea Louis had it in him to be this passionate and indecent, an arousing enigma.

"Daddy." Louis pulls on Marcel's lip. He sits back perched on the man's lap, his hand still less than decently gripping Marcel's semi. 

"Hmm." Marcel looks up at his tantalising angel and smirks at the lovely boy. "Where did all this come from, baby?"

Louis whines high in his throat whilst Marcel plants open-mouthed kisses with the tingle of dampness left behind up that column. "Please?"

Marcel's teeth dig deep into Louis' jugular as he suckles on the skin protecting it at an increasing degree of intensity. Blood rushes to the underside of the flesh and he hums tastefully from the buzzing warmth. He wants to taunt Louis a bit, keep him immobile when he's so desperate to move away. 

"Give me a kiss, baby, and I'll let you do it." Marcel bargains for a kiss because Louis is presently so distracted by his aim to do what he plans, that it hardly registers for him. 

Louis' smile is fresh and kindred. He leans in before Marcel can meet him halfway and they're connected by the effortless seam of their lips. Marcel tangles their tongues and moans appreciatively at Louis' bravery. He cups Louis' pert bottom reverently and rolls his perfect hips against his own, creating much needed friction. 

"Daddy, Daddy." Louis pushes Marcel away by his chest, breathless and licking his lips in a far too sinful manner. "You promised."

"Can't help it, baby." Marcel tugs on Louis' dishevelled state and steals one more kiss, more modest and plain against the rest. "You're so tempting."

Louis' cheeks are in a permanent blushing condition, light pink and sweet as an angel's heart. "You can um- kiss me more.....when I'm done."

"Fuck." Marcel must look wrecked already with his wide-blown eyes and swollen lips left parted for scraps of air. "Fuck, okay."

Giggles reach his ear, the finest sound a mortal can hear. "You don't swear a lot."

Marcel lifts his head off the rest and looks at Louis' amused blue orbs. "You make me lose all my control, babydoll."

Louis smothers his amusement with a chaste peck shared for a languid moment with Marcel. He feels his heart jackrabbit against the walls of his ribcage as he contemplates the parameters of his task ahead. He's never done this for pleasure before, and was eager whilst at the same time nervous. His nagging subconscious, a more lustful presence, was already on its knees while Louis battled with anxiety.

"Hey, babydoll. There's no need to be worried." Marcel comforted him with gentle rubs on his back and a whisper of sweet nothings in his ear. "It's you and I and nobody else, love. You don't even have to do this."

"Want to." Louis argues with a sniffle, nodding to further his cause. "Can I try?"

"Anything you want, babydoll. You can stop whenever you want to." Marcel was dead serious. He was going to monitor Louis the entire time and as soon as he sensed discomfort, will end it.

Louis had little struggle shuffling down the length of the seat and Marcel's body. He was a petite figure with complete control over his limbs, and easily kneeled on the seat between Marcel's legs without a scratch. Marcel couldn't let him be there alone and leaned across for one kiss, certainly not their last.

The hardship transpired when Louis' fingers shook at the task of shifting Marcel's underwear. He took three deep breaths and concentrated, but it was the man kissing his forehead and telling him in hushed tones that he was so beautiful, that made it easier. Louis was scared to do something wrong but he was even more thrilled to try at all.

He crooked his fingers around the waistband of Marcel's expensive boxer briefs and pulled it down a bit. The owner had to help by raising his hips so Louis didn't have a problem in keeping the elastic band lowered to his thighs. 

Louis had never given any thought to what Marcel would look like without pants on. It's safe to say he's pleasantly startled. While the bulge visible through his underwear was impressive enough, an arch that Louis' hand couldn't cradle entirely. The c*ck it concealed was remarkably more stunning.

It was a pretty sight to behold, built with many inches of hot, hard flesh that led to the bulbous tip that's peeled back the foreskin. Throbbing with the rush of blood and the bulge of the underside vein, Louis feels both powerful and dominated when the length is in his grasp. 

Marcel watches with piercing, stormy eyes as Louis cautiously gets more comfortable. It's impossible to read the boy's expression, to gauge what he's thinking. Louis takes hold of him and it's an effort to not hiss from the friction, his hips bucking upward into Louis' hands. 

Those palms were small as it is and made Marcel's erection appear close to monstrous. Louis marvelled at its girth and salivated at the thought of tasting it. He refrained from warning his captive before leaning down and kitten licking the pulsating heat, right over the swollen slit. Marcel groaned in pleasure and misery, screwing his eyes shut to get lost in Louis' treatment.

Louis ran his hand down the entire length while the other clasped Marcel's thigh to ground himself. He took a sharp breath before taking another chance to lick a circular path around the head, enjoying the hardness on his tongue and the taste erupting on it. It was easy to want more and he soon found the bravery to engulf the entire tip past his lips, flicking his tongue over the slit for more bitter droplets. 

Marcel fought an emotional war to keep himself under control. His hands tightened where it gripped the expensive leather seat, pulling aggravating squeaks from the fabric. He felt the heat on his c*ck and shivered from Louis' moans passing to him. 

"Don't rush, babydoll." Marcel said despite the throbbing of his erection that's now exposed to chilly air. He'd risk blue balls for Louis' gratification.

Louis didn't care about the warning. He was uncomfortable in his pants as well but it was easier to ignore when reminded that he wasn't allowed to touch himself. Distraction came so simply when he could focus on the part of Marcel's body that he's being allowed to savour.

He licks his lips for the remnants of precome that's dribbled across them. It's fascinatingly brand new on his tongue and Louis hopes to investigate further. Minding the restrictions of their confined space, Louis bends down again for a longer period of time. He suckles on the painful looking tip, inexperience lacing his sloppy movements. 

Confidence grew as did his motivation. Louis experimented with nudging a bit more of the length into his mouth, gagging when he went too far. Marcel was there to pull him upright and check that flushed state of his cheeks and neck weren't from being hurt.

Louis had glossy eyes and spit-covered lips that tasted different when Marcel kissed him. He reassured the man that he was fine and returned to the task that most excited him. It was never an option to be this unrestricted before and the trust he had put in the Styles' brothers made him feel safe to try stretching out.

He took Marcel's c*ck in his mouth as much as it could go without choking, swirling his tongue in tiny massaging curls around the hard flesh. The throb of a vein made his tongue retaliate and his spine tingle. He enjoyed the taste in his mouth and the feel of intimacy to such an explicit nature. Louis hummed and revelled in the tortured groan it pulled from Marcel.

His head started to bob and Marcel was certain he had lost his mind to this sinful specimen of a boy. He wanted to watch but each time he did it drove him a little mad. Louis was not discreet about pushing his own boundaries, on each slurping thrust he took a bit more an inch in. Marcel could feel the tightness of his throat and nearly _came_ to the reminder that Louis' voice is going to be utterly ruined.

Louis clasped Marcel's hips in his efforts to do a better job. The weight in his mouth made his gums hurt and his lips burn but the sensation will skyrocket to being a favourite of his. He pulled off the c*ck and watched it slap against Marcel's abdomen. Against the faint sight of abs it looked so sinful, so tantalising.

He couldn't waste any time before using the bravery that's harboured in his chest to plant a trail of kisses up from the base to the tip. Louis is weak and let his tongue slip out many a moment to nibble on the heated flesh, to torture the vein that he keeps returning to. It also turns out to be a weak spot for Marcel, who trembles whenever it's touched.

Louis doesn't know the signs when Marcel is close to his orgasm or not, and has to ask. He wipes the wetness off his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls back up to the man's eye-line, skin flushed under his clothing. It's uncomfortable to move and horrid to do so unnecessarily, so he makes quick work of peeling off his pants to dump on the floor.

Marcel takes Louis on his lap when he rights his seated position from a slouch, and ignites their bodies in a kiss. He tastes himself on Louis' tongue and shamelessly kneads the flesh of Louis' bottom. "Are you close too, babydoll?"

Louis whimpers when he comes to realise that his own orgasm has been neglected this entire time. He nods vehemently and hides his face in Marcel's neck, gasping when his underwear is yanked down at the front. Nervous to receive attention, Louis' fingers become tangled in Marcel's hair and he involuntarily ruts his hips against the latter's.

"Don't be ashamed, babydoll." Marcel took both their fattened c*cks in his hand, and felt Louis' body shudder against him. "This is your pleasure too."

Louis whined and rolled his hips in time with Marcel's pumping motions, starting out slow before moving faster to push them both over. Marcel sucks concentrated marks into Louis' neck at odd patches of skin while he lubricates his hand with saliva, grunting in a low register as it led up to his climax.

 _"Daddy- oh please-"_ Louis squeezed his eyes shut, tears springing out through his lashes. He breathes in the thick, damp air all fuelled by their sexually arousing escapade. 

Louis came when he saw white spots in his vision and smothered his cry in Marcel's shoulder. His release ended with white splatters across their skin and him simpering from being over-sensitive.

"I got you, babydoll." Marcel hugged Louis close with his free arm, and bit down hard on the boy's neck when he came across their fronts. 

Silence befell their rendezvous shortly after Marcel's both arms encircled Louis' quivering shape. He kissed the boy's cheek and felt him smile. Louis wrapped his arms around Marcel's neck and returned the kiss, giggling when their lips met instead.

"Are you okay, love?" Marcel's paranoia knew no bounds. He cradled Louis in his lap and framed the side of his face, allowing himself to fall prey to those doe eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Louis smiled and it was enough, those crinkles by his eyes and prominent freckles at his nose. He gave Marcel a kiss that felt more intimate than anything the man ever did before. "Did I hurt you?"

Marcel chuckled and grabbed some tissues out of the picnic basket. "No, babydoll. Thanks for asking."

They got cleaned up and cuddled up under the discarded blanket again to watch the remainder of the movie. Louis stayed on Marcel's lap after the man put the two front seats down for a better view. Marcel followed that by blindly covering Louis' face in kisses because he was _excited_ and nothing could take that away.

"Daddy." Louis giggled wildly, framing Marcel's invasive face in his hands. "What are you doing?"

Marcel kissed him again. "You're far more interesting than the movie, babydoll."

Louis blushed and returned the kiss with every ounce of enthusiasm given to him. He smiled against Marcel's lips and shivered when a pair of warm hands slipped under his shirt. "Do I get to call you my boyfriend now?"

Those hands got secured on the small of his back, Marcel's forehead resting against his temple. "I don't think Daddy and boyfriend entail the same responsibilities."

"Which one do you wanna be?" Louis whispered, dodging any further kisses. "Nah uh. You have to answer first."

Marcel laughed when his following efforts were in vain. "Maybe I don't want to be one."

Louis' whole expression changed, morphing into tragedy. His smile fell and his heart sunk to the depths of his soul where it got hooked to four chains, each pulling at odd angles. He didn't want to be _used_ and he was so _stupid_ for not asking first. 

When he starts to get away, Marcel swears himself for saying the wrong thing. "Oh no. No, love. I didn't mean that."

Louis is sniffling and furiously wiping at his burning eyes. He hiccups when Marcel tries to get him back, the boy that's slipping off his lap to be far away. 

"Babydoll, stop." Marcel ignores all frustration and resistance acting upon him. He captures Louis' waist and kisses his forehead, holding him still so he has to listen. "I didn't mean it, babydoll. I was joking but that was insensitive. Of course I'm your boyfriend, I would be honoured."

Louis holds his breath to stop his hiccups and hugs Marcel back. He can't prevent the tears rolling down his cheeks as they get soaked into Marcel's shirt. Marcel curses under his breath as he recalls the way they met Louis, and the consequences that followed. He never should have said anything so brutally hurtful. 

"Are you lying?" Louis whispers hoarsely, that crack in his voice originating from previous activities.

Marcel tightens his arms around his boyfriend. "No, babydoll. Not at all. I'm so sorry, baby."

Louis forgives him after the apology and promise. He angles his head to the left to kiss the man's cheek, their eyes meeting when Marcel turned as well. Louis' knuckles caress Marcel's shaven jaw as he smiles weakly in the cradle of the man's arm, brushing the skin to distract himself. 

"I'm sorry, babydoll." Marcel kisses his forehead and whispers it twice more. "Would you be willing to spend tonight in my room?"

"Okay." Louis' fingers traced Marcel's lips. "I'd love to, Daddy."


End file.
